Watching Your Back
by Sobriety
Summary: Faith comes back to Sunnydale just as Spike kicks off his latest scheme. The final part comes in two flavours: hetero and slash. Take your pick which you prefer.
1. Chapter 1

**Watching Your Back**

Disclaimers

Legal:All characters are (c) Joss Whedon, Fox, Mutant Enemy and probably a whole mess of other people. No infringement of copyright intended.

Spoilers:All the way to the end of season 4.

Summary:Faith comes back to Sunnydale just as Spike kicks off his latest scheme.

**Prologue**

Faith sat down at the cubicle and glanced slowly around the prison visiting room.

"So … it's you. I was expecting -"

"Angel?" the blonde police detective on the other side of the glass panel leaned back in her chair, "He sends his apologies. Something urgent came up. He asked me to come by and let you know why you had no visitors this week."

Faith looked down at her hands,

"'No visitors', huh? I guess that means you still ain't told him about our little heart to hearts."

Detective Kate Lockley shook her head slowly as Faith began to peel at a gap in the cheap plastic veneer of the cubicle walls.

"It tell him as much as he tells me. Which is very little. Angel is … confining. He seems to think that, having shown me the door into this world, he can shut it again and keep me out. Like I could close my eyes to it all. You've told me a lot about the things out there. Things Angel never would."

Faith rubbed her hair,

"I know what you mean. I owe the big guy a lot. Maybe as much as I owe B. He got through to me and he stuck by me when no-one else could." She gestured at the plain cement walls of the room, "And he still helps me when he visits. But if I hadn't come here … if I was still at his place … I think I would have run by now. It would have been suffocating, always under his eye."

The blonde policewoman cocked her head to one side and gave the young woman in prison garb a long, measuring look.

"You've changed in the time you've been here." She said, choosing her words carefully, "I remember when you came to the station that night -"

_# I'd like to make a confession. #_

"- you seemed like you were … almost self-loathing, I guess. Like you'd just realised that the monster in your nightmare was you. Now -"

"I seem to be dealing? Yeah … it's wicked weird what six months in a place like this can do for you. Not much to occupy my time between visits but training and thinking. Hell, I even took my high school equivalency test."

"Really, Angel didn't mention -"

"I don't tell him everything, either."

"Oh."

"Look, Detective, for all that I've changed in here, there's still a wall between me and them. I did some shitty things to a whole bunch of people who deserved better, and I'm lucky they didn't kill me for it. There were times I wished they did -"

"Sometimes I think there's a wall between Angel and everybody. But, he -"

"Thinks I can find my way again? Yeah, I know he does. And that's why I'm still alive to have this conversation. Even B was ready to put me out -"

"B?"

Faith paused, choosing her answer. _Sure. B. Buffy. The Chosen One. Slayer Done Right._

"Nobody. A friend. So, are you here for more low-down on the demon-spawn?"

The detective shook her head,

"No. Like I said, just to give you Angel's apology. I should be going, really." She pushed back her chair and began to stand.

"Wait. Detective -"

The policewoman paused, and Faith leaned forward, so she was close to the glass,

"Can you give Angel a message for me? Next time you see him?"

"Sure, though that probably won't be for a few days. What is it?"

"Tell him how I've changed. Then tell him I've been doing a lot of thinking. Tell him -" she paused, "- tell him that I've been thinking about the Slayer powers."

"The _what_?"

"They're what let me match it with the vamps and the demons. B has them, too. But they're not a part of us. They're like … a gift. And any gift can be passed on. Like I said, I've been thinking. The way the world is, we both need to be out there -"

"I hope you aren't suggesting -"

"Don't worry. I ain't busting out. I've been down that road before, and I didn't like where it went. But the world needs all the Slayers it can get, and I'm not doing anything worth a damn in here. So tell Angel I'm passing the powers on. More important, tell him … him _and_ Wesley … tell them to find the new Slayer before the Council does. Can you do that?"

The detective nodded slowly, and Faith could tell that she suspected something was being hidden from her. Not that it mattered if she did. She wouldn't guess what it was.

"I'll tell him."

**Chapter 1**

Buffy Summers walked slowly through the darkened campus of UC Sunnydale. She was alone. Riley had offered to come on patrol, but she hadn't wanted company. Not tonight. Besides, things had been quiet ever since the showdown with Adam. No surprise there. Every time she'd put down a major player - the Master, the Mayor, whoever - the vamps and demons went to ground for weeks or months. She'd barely staked a bad guy all summer.

_# Apologise to me and I will beat you to death. #_

That had been the last thing she'd said to Faith before the two of them had been fighting for their lives against the Council's Operations Team. She'd meant every word.

_# Go ahead. #_

Said in a certain way, it could have been a challenge, a mockery. She wanted desperately to believe that was what it was. But she'd seen Faith's eyes as she said it. The other Slayer had meant it, though Buffy had been too angry to realise it at the time.

For _months_ she had hoped that Faith would realise she was going wrong. Hoped that she would apologise. Then the Ascension had come and gone and afterwards she'd just hoped Faith wouldn't die. It had been crazy, but she was sure that Faith _had_ helped her beat the Mayor.

And then Faith had come out of the coma, and Buffy had hoped against hope that the other girl would have changed. But she hadn't. If anything, what she did that time was worse than anything she had done before.

_And when I went to LA, I went to make her pay._

At last, Faith had been ready to offer an apology.

_And I turned it down flat._

She knew now that there would never be another chance.

When Faith had been in the coma, they'd all got sloppy. If the Watcher's Council hadn't warned them, the gang would never have known she was awake until she showed up. So when Faith went to jail, they had made sure that they would know of any changes in her circumstances. It was amazing what Willow could hack into with a combination of computer skills and witchcraft. Particularly with Tara's help.

Now _that_ had been last year's real surprise package. The idea that her best friend had a girlfriend had left her almost speechless.

But it had been 'out' for months now, and they had all learned to deal. Even Xander. Though Buffy doubted that Willow's mother knew of her daughter's relationship, even now.

_You're drifting, B._ She scolded herself. Then almost stopped in her tracks. _"B"_. She _never_ thought of herself that way. The news about Faith must have got to her worse than she realised.

Buffy flopped down at one of the picnic tables around campus. Patrol was a bust anyway. All the vamps were still in hiding. Even Spike, which was just as well for him.

So Willow had hacked the prison database and set up a program that would let them know anytime there was a change in Faith's record. Until today it had all been pretty mundane. A few fights with other inmates, Faith getting her High School equivalence certificate.

_That was the only time I remember Willow using Faith's name. Only Will could get excited about something like that. She's still 'Education Gal'._

But today that had changed.

Today the prison had updated Faith's record for the last time.

Catastrophic trauma. Pronounced DOA at the prison hospital.

A four storey fall onto concrete. It should have hurt her, but not killed her. Not unless she wanted it to. The police were treating the death as suspicious, thought it was probably the result of a fight with another inmate. But Buffy doubted that anyone could have thrown Faith off a building without the Slayer's co-operation.

She laid back against the table. _All those months of wanting an apology and when it came, I turned it down. I never believed she had changed. But I guess that maybe she had. Or maybe she just gave up. I'll never know._

Clouds drifted lazily across the sky as Buffy looked up at the stars. _I guess this means there's another Slayer out there, again. Poor kid. I hope it goes better for her than it did for Kendra or Faith_.

The soft sound of a boot scuffing across grass and she was off the table and on her feet.

_Woah, talk about drifting, B. Letting four vampires get this close._ It was more Faith's voice in her head than her own. Seemed like she wasn't ready to let go of the other Slayer yet.

Buffy scanned the four, stepping slowly away from the table as she did so. Newbies, by the look of them. Fresh out of the earth. That meant some recent activity that she had missed. _Getting sloppy_. Things were quiet enough that nothing should have got past her.

She smiled tightly, and beckoned the vamps forward with one hand, the other sliding inside her coat to grasp the stake that was nestled there_. I could do with the distraction, and it will make up for missing whoever created them_.

"So," she said lightly, "Who's first?"

The vampires ran.

"Dammit!"

She took off after them.

Willow looked up as Buffy swung in through her bedroom window. She and Tara had been hanging at the Summers' house for most of vacation. _No surprise there, if I'm right that she still hasn't told her Mom. I'm just glad my Mom was so cool about it. Of course, I suppose that as surprises go, it's pretty normal compared to some of the ones I've sprung on her._

"Hey," she said, giving Willow a half-wave, "Where's Tara?"

"Little Witches' Room." The redhead answered, closing the notepad computer she had been working on. "I take it from the sweat and blood that you got some bad guys tonight?"

Buffy grinned,

"I don't sweat. I perspire. But yeah. Four newbie vamps. They ran when they saw I was up for a fight. At first I figured it might be a trap, but they were just cowards, I guess."

"That's weird." Willow tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then turned and smiled as Tara slipped into the room.

"What's w-weird?" the blonde witch asked, only half-looking at them. Even now, she was shy around Buffy and the others. _Not surprising, given how 'up-front' some of us can be. Anya could send a sailor bashful. And that's on a quiet day_.

"Buffy dusted four new vamps tonight." Willow explained, reaching out a hand to Tara. The two entwined fingers and sat together on the bed.

Buffy perched on her dresser and gave Willow a quizzical look,

"Weird how, Will? Dusting vamps is pretty much a nightly occurrence for me."

"Not lately, it isn't." Willow pointed out, "And you said they were all fresh, too. Which is weird, since you'd think we'd have heard about four odd deaths -"

"This _is_ Sunnydale, Will." Buffy reminded her friend.

"Yeah, and this sort of stuff happens all the time without anyone saying anything about it. At least publicly. But I've got taps on the morgue, the hospital and the good ol' Sunnydale PD. This is the new millennium after all, so we shouldn't still be relying on the newspaper to tell us when stuff is in the process of being 'up'. Or by stumbling across bodies in lockers, like used to happen when you first came here."

_True enough. The paper never even said anything when Faith and I killed that guy._

"Faith killed him, Buffy. Not you."

"Huh?" Buffy snapped her head up and stared at Willow, "What?"

Willow gave her a concerned look,

"Are you okay? You just said something about you and Faith killing that guy, Allan. But it was just Faith, Buffy. Don't forget that. You tried to stop her."

"Yeah, sorry, guess I'm pretty zoned." _Must be, to say something like that out loud. And dammit, it _wasn't_ my fault, no matter how guilty it still makes me feel._

"So, like I was saying, we should've known that there were four vamps on the way, particularly since it's all been so quiet since you took out Adam."

"Buffy _and_ you." Tara interjected quietly, giving Willow's hand a squeeze. The redhead grinned bashfully and ducked her head. It was almost exactly the same mannerism as Buffy had seen so often from Tara, and the slayer had to suppress a smile.

"Yeah, Will. Me and you and Xander and Giles, in fact." Buffy hopped off the dresser and slipped out of her coat, hanging it in the wardrobe, "But you were explaining the weird."

"Yep," Willow flipped open the notepad computer and pointed at the screen, "nothing for days from any of my taps."

"Except Faith." Buffy said, quietly.

"Yeah … except Faith." Willow canted her head to one side, "Are you sure you're alright?"

Buffy opened her mouth to say she was, then closed it again.

"No, Will. I'm not sure that I am. I thought I'd given up on Faith, that hearing she was dead would be a relief. But I guess I didn't, not entirely. Because I've been not-focussed gal ever since I heard."

Tara glanced between them,

"But I thought Faith was _bad_. I mean, she wasn't v-very nice to me and Willow -"

"She was bad, alright." Willow said as firmly as she could, nodding vigorously as she did so.

Buffy sighed and dropped onto the bed beside Willow, covering her eyes.

"Yeah, Will, but you know me." Buffy mumbled, "Masochism's my middle name. Well, okay, 'Anne' is my middle name. But masochism probably should be. I mean, the whole deal with Angel. I beat myself up every day for _two years_ over that. And Parker. I spent _weeks_ thinking that was my fault, when all the time he was just a pig." She looked up, and half-smiled, "So I guess it will take me some time to deal with Faith taking the big fall, y'know. Even if there were times I would have gladly pushed her myself."

"Get in line." Willow muttered under her breath, then pointed at her computer's screen again. "But apart from Faith, nothing from my taps for days. Then Buffy meets four new vamps on patrol, and when she doesn't go all 'screamy victim' on them, they bolt. New vamps aren't usually that smart. They're all 'must feed' and gross stuff like that. I think someone made those vamps on the quiet, and warned them about the Slayer."

"Which means a new player in town." Buffy exclaimed, following Willow's logic.

"Or an old one." Willow closed the notepad again.

Buffy stared at her in confusion for a moment, and then realisation dawned.

"Spike?" she said.

Willow nodded,

"Spike."

Buffy rolled over and squinted at her bedside clock with one half-open eye. 7:26 AM. Too early to be up in the last week of holidays, but the sun was slapping straight across her bed, suggesting another hot, bright day in Sunnydale.

_Which is why it got the name, I guess. You'd think the vamps would pick somewhere more overcast for their favourite patch of earth._

She sat up and swung her legs out of the bed. Faint noises downstairs told her that her Mom was already up. It wouldn't be Tara and Willow, she was sure of that. The two witches were sharing the spare room. Which was on the other side of the house, well away from the invasive morning sun.

Slipping on a robe over her pyjamas, she went downstairs for breakfast, taking the steps two at a time before bursting in the kitchen with a cheery cry,

"Good morning, Mom."

Joyce Summers stood at the window with a glass of orange juice in her hand,

"Oh, it's just you, Buffy. Thank goodness. I thought a herd of elephants was stampeding down the stairs."

Buffy favoured her mother with a mock-glare as she snagged a glass of juice for herself,

"It is to laugh." She said lightly, "what's for breakfast?"

"Whatever you decide to fix when the girls are up." Joyce finished her juice and rinsed the glass in the sink, "I'm expecting a shipment first thing at the gallery, so I need to get there early today."

"Cool." Buffy slid onto one of the stools next to the kitchen bench. "We'll just burn something later. But before you go, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, honey. What is it?" Joyce picked up her handbag and fished out her keys.

"Mom, you've been amazing about the whole deal with Tara and Willow. I mean, they've been here just about every night of the holidays. And you've just taken it all in stride. Even though, you know, they must be doing … couple stuff … in the spare room. Doesn't it bother you?"

"Not really, honey." Joyce glanced sidelong at her daughter, "I mean, no more than it seems to bother you that your father and I did 'couple stuff' in the same bed your friends are using."

"Eww, Mom!" Buffy grimaced into her juice, "That's an image I didn't need."

Joyce laughed and kissed her daughter on the forehead,

"And _you_ have the nerve to think _I_ might be old-fashioned." She teased, heading for the door, "I'll see you tonight, honey. Try to enjoy yourself. Only four more days until you're back at college."

Buffy grimaced into her juice,

"And there's _another_ image I didn't need." She muttered in mock-misery.

It wasn't until about ten minutes later that Buffy slid off her stool and walked to the phone. _The thing about bright, sunny mornings is that they tend to blow away those workaday cares. Like four new vamps we didn't have a clue about._

She dialed Giles' number from memory, and stood listening to the ring of her watcher's phone.

"One. Two. Three." she counted quietly under her breath, smiling. _Giles always picks up in the middle of the fourth ring._

But the phone rang on. Four times; five; then six. Buffy frowned, and let the phone ring out.

No answer. The morning after new vamp activity. _Not good_.

Her cheerful morning mood rapidly fading, the slayer returned up the stairs as fast as she had come down them. She paused quickly to bang on the door of the spare room,

"Willow! Tara! I think something may be wrong at Giles'!"

And then she was into her room, pulling on the last night's patrol gear.

"Everything looks normal enough." Willow observed quietly, as the three of them approached Giles' apartment. "No signs of damage to the door or windows. And the spell wires are still in place."

Buffy stopped in mid-stride,

"_Spell wires_?"

Willow nodded enthusiastically,

"It was Tara's idea." she said, as the blonde witch blushed, "Setting up magical wards takes lots of time and energy, which is why we can't just put spells on all our houses to stop demons from entering. But Tara thought we might be able to make some sort of little signs that we would be able to see if anyone had forced their way in."

"L-like putting a hair across a drawer so you can see if anyone has opened it while you were gone." Tara explained.

"I see." Buffy realised that one of her feet was still in mid-air and slowly lowered it. "So let me guess ... when you two vanish into your room for hours on end, this is the sort of stuff you're getting up to, isn't it? Magical tricks. Practicing with your powers."

"Well, sure." Willow said, with a puzzled look, "I mean, what else did you think we were ... oh. _Oh_." he mouth continued to move, but there was no sound coming out as a pink flush flamed across her cheeks.

Tara took Willow's hand and squeezed it gently. Which did little to alleviate Willow's discomfort.

"So the spell wires are still in place." Buffy said, deliberately turning the topic away from any possible source of hyperventilation for her friend. "Which means that Giles should be OK?"

"Well it means that no-one has forced their way in." Willow answered, seizing on the new, safer topic. "But if he was tricked into letting them in ..."

"Yeah, right." Buffy nodded, "So we'd better go check." She strode over to Giles' door purposefully, then glanced around to see if anyone was watching.

"The thing about English librarians," she remarked casually, "is that they always leave their spare key under the geraniums."

She pushed sharply on the door, easily forcing the lock open.

"Oh!" Willow clapped her hands, and Tara smiled. "The spell wires worked! They changed colour!"

"I'm so glad, Will." Buffy remarked dryly, stepping inside, "But perhaps we ought to check for Giles?"

"Oh. Oh yes."

The three of them hurried inside, and moved quickly through the apartment, checking for signs of what might have happened to their semi-retired Watcher. It took less than three minutes for them to meet back up in the living room.

"Nothing." Buffy drummed her fingers on a table, "No Giles. No signs of a struggle. No weapons missing. Everything normal."

"Except the broken lock that someone's allowance is never going to cover." Willow said, with a small grin at Buffy's expense.

The slayer glowered at her friend,

"Don't enjoy it too much, Rosenberg. You're an accessory to the crime."

There was the unmistakeable noise of an Englishman politely clearing his throat,

"Um, just what is going on here?"

"Giles!" Buffy turned and greeted her Watcher with exaggerated enthusiasm, "Where have you been? Not that it's important, since I suppose you're wondering how we got inside without a key-"

"Not really, no." Giles answered distractedly, "I was, um, out. Yes. Out. For a walk. To get, um-" he looked down at the paper bag in his hand, "Bagels. Yes. Bagels. I was out for bagels."

"Bagels? I _love_ bagels." Willow smiled happily.

"But I thought you were strictly a crumpets man?" Buffy said, "I'm sure you said you couldn't stand 'those bland, American pastries'."

"Well, uh. It was time for a change." Giles said, a little weakly, "Variety is the spice, yes? And what did you do to my door?"

Buffy blushed,

"That was my oops." she admitted, "I was worried about you. There was some unexpected activity on the patrol last night, and when I phoned here this morning there was no answer."

"Unexpected activity?" Giles pushed his glasses back on his nose and gave them all a quizzical stare, "what sort of activity?"

"Buffy dusted four new vamps." Willow announced proudly, "Which was weird, since we hadn't heard of any vampire activity -"

"Will thinks that Spike may be up to something." Buffy interjected, "She's quite the Shirley Holmes, when she wants to be."

"I think you'll find that's _Sherlock_ Holmes, Buffy." Giles corrected, placing his bag on the table.

"No. Shirley." Buffy said confidently. "She's on Nickelodeon."

"Well ... quite." Giles responded, obviously giving up on the subject. "Given that this is the first real activity we've had in weeks, I suppose a meeting is in order? Perhaps you could tell the others to meet here after lunch?"

"We could just call them now -" Willow began

"- but that would be rude. We'll tell them to come after lunch." Buffy steered her friend toward the door, eager to escape before any more was said about Giles' damaged lock.

The ex-librarian watched them go, then closed the door with a sigh of relief. Quickly, he walked over to the phone and dialed a number.

"Hello? It's Rupert. I just wanted to let you know I'll be a few minutes late. No, nothing's wrong, there was just a little hiccough getting the bagels."

**Chapter Two**

It was over two hours later when Buffy found herself walking alone through the college campus for the second time in only a few hours. Since the Initiative had closed down, Riley had been able to come out of hiding again, and he had taken a room at the college, where he would be working as a teaching assistant to Professor Walsh's replacement, Professor Verricker.

_Who hopefully doesn't play Frankenstein in his spare time._

Tara and Willow had volunteered to round up Xander and Anya, leaving Buffy to tell Riley of the afternoon's meeting. _And maybe spend a little time snuggling. Snuggling would be good_.

Despite the fact that it was only a few days before classes resumed, the campus was almost deserted: most people were obviously making the most of what freedom remained to them. _Trust Spike to ruin the last week of the holidays_.

Still, at least the campus was a lot nicer place in daylight. Much less vampire friendly, too. _Which is ironic, because there's the table where those four tried to grab me_. _The table where I was thinking about Faith. But what's really ironic, is that the girl who is sitting there now -_

_looks_

_just_

_like_

"Faith".

"Hey, B. Looking good, girlfriend."

The brunette slayer swung her leg over the bench she was sitting on and slowly stood up. She looked a little thinner, and her right wrist was bandaged, but the black jeans and leather jacket were exactly the same as Buffy remembered them.

The blonde girl slowly raised her hands in readiness for the fight she was sure would come.

"I should have known four storeys wasn't enough to kill you." she said bitterly. "Just a nice little dodge to get me off guard, huh?"

"It was supposed to be eight." Quiet, almost too quiet to hear.

"What?"

"It was supposed to be eight." Faith repeated, her voice louder and firmer, but her hands still relaxed and at her side. "Highest place in the joint. Swan dive off. Headfirst into concrete ... it would have crushed my skull like a grape."

Despite herself, Buffy winced.

"Wicked gross image, ain't it, B? But we're damn hard to kill. I had to pick a way that would be sure."

"So what happened?" Buffy snapped, not relaxing in the slightest, "Your swan dive turned chicken?"

For a moment, Faith's hands reflexively clenched. Then they opened again, slowly.

"Angel." the taller girl slowly leant back against the table, "He got word of what I was planning. Jumped me as I was going up. Threw me off the damn building. Which I should be used to by now, I guess. Four storeys won't kill us, but it did slow me down enough for Wesley to get a dose of that Council drug into me. Stuff has a wicked kick, B. I went out like a light. Woke up twelve hours later to find out that Angel had bluffed the prison Doc into declaring me DOA. Not surprising, what with the blood all over me and the way my vitals had been knocked cold."

"My heart bleeds. Now are we going to get to it?"

"Chill, B. I'm not here to fight." Faith spread her hands, palms out.

"Sure. You're here to make nice. Like I believe that. You're suicidal or you're crazy, Faith. Either way, I'll put you down."

"You could be right, B." nodded the dark haired slayer. "Suicidal might well describe me." she began to walk slowly toward Buffy. Hands still down, relaxed. "Because you once told me that if I apologised to you then you would beat me to death. Because I'm going to do it, anyway. Because I _am_ sorry. Because while that will never make it right between us, it still has to be said."

Somehow, they were only inches apart. Buffy tense and ready, Faith seemingly calm, unprepared.

_Stupid. She's distracted you. You're too close. Better hit her first._

Buffy's jab caught Faith above the eye, knocking the taller girl back a step. The blonde stepped forward, grabbing the bandaged wrist and wrenching it around behind Faith's back. A leg sweep followed, and they crashed to the ground: the brunette face down, Buffy sprawled across her.

"You were stupid to come here without healing up first, Faith." Buffy whispered fiercely, squeezing the other girl's injured wrist and feeling the reaction in the body beneath her. "Even at full strength you weren't a match for me. Like this, it's not even a contest. So I'll give you one last chance. If I ever see you again I'll kill you. But if you leave Sunnydale _now_, and never come back, then I'll let you live." she paused, the squeezed Faith's wrist again, "Got it?"

"No."

Buffy froze. The whispered reply was soft, but firm.

"_What?_" she wrenched Faith's wrist, and was rewarded by a stifled yelp of pain, "You're not in a position to make a choice here, Faith."

"No, I'm not." Faith agreed, "But my coming here was never about _me_ making a choice. It was about _you_ making one."

"What the hell -"

"You wanna let me up so we can talk about this?"

"Not a chance. You can talk just fine like this. Not that I expect to hear anything worthwhile. I don't buy Angel's line that you're just a poor, lost soul."

"Five by five with me, B." Faith replied, twisting her head to one side, "As long as you're cool with bystanders thinking you're playing the same team as your little red-headed frie-_aargh_!."

Buffy unclenched her hand from Faith's wrist.

"Don't. Ever. Talk about Willow. Like that."

Faith was silent for a moment, then she began to speak, quietly,

"Angel kept me up to date on what you were doing while I was inside. He didn't want to, at first. Thought it might upset me to hear about you. But I needed to. It gave me something to think about, between his visits."

"Nice. So you have a stalker thing for me. I'm supposed to be happy?"

"About two weeks ago, he finally told me what went down with Adam." Faith continued, without responding to Buffy's interjection, "How you and Red and Xander and Giles combined your powers to stop him. How just being the slayer wasn't enough. He also told me you woke something by doing it. Something that didn't like what you'd done. The world's in trouble, B. Every year it seems you face something bigger and nastier than the year before. One slayer isn't enough anymore."

Faith was silent for a moment, then continued,

"I once told Wesley that I didn't think about destiny, or fate. But in prison, there isn't much else to do. I think there are two slayers now for a _reason_, Buffy. Because the world needs them. But I wasn't doing jack for the world where I was."

"So you got Angel to bust you out." Buffy broke in, bitterly, "So now he will be implicated if I drag you back to jail. Clever. I guess I'll just have to kill you, instead." She braced for Faith to struggle.

But it didn't happen.

"So I decided to pass on the slayer powers to someone else. Someone who wasn't in jail. Someone who could back you up. I asked someone; a cop; to tell Angel to look for the new slayer. To find her before the Council did. The cop was smarter than I realised. She got word to Angel straight away, and of course he knew the only way I could pass the powers on was to die. I would have jumped, B. I owed you that."

"Uh huh. I'm sure. And now you're out you want to kiss and make up? Is that it? Pretend the stuff you did never happened? I'm not that naive, Faith."

"This has nothing to do with what we _want_, Buffy. It never did. I'm out of jail, and the world thinks I'm dead. You kill me now, no-one but you will ever know. Even Angel would believe you if you said you hadn't seen me. And that's the choice _you_ have to make, B. Because you see, I'm in Sunnydale to stay. You don't kill me, then I'll always be around. Watching your back whether you want it or not. Because someone has to."

"I have plenty of people watching my back already, Faith. I don't need you."

"What, the beefstick? No offence, B, because I'm sure he's good at what he does, but he's _just a guy_. He's not a slayer. And you're going to _need_ a slayer. So it's either live with me, or kill me, and hope Angel finds my successor before the Council does."

Buffy burst through Giles' door, completing the destruction of the already damaged lock. Willow, who was sitting on the couch with Tara, started noticeably. The blonde witch, meanwhile, looked like she was about to faint.

"Was that necessary, Buffy?" Giles asked mildly, polishing his glasses, "I didn't realise my door had done so much to offend you."

"Yeah, Buff." said Xander from the kitchen, where he and Anya were calmly raiding Giles' fridge. "It's not like Spike can get up to much at this time of day. Where's Riley, anyway? Willow said you were getting him."

Buffy looked at them all, trying to speak, but not sure how to start. _Get a grip, girl_.

"It's Faith. She's in Sunnydale."

There was a moment of silence and stillness.

Willow slowly took Tara's hand in hers,

"Buffy. Faith's _dead_."

"No," Buffy shook her head, "She isn't. I just saw her. Spoke to her. She's back in town, and she said she's hear to stay. Unless I kill her."

Xander spread his hands,

"So you made with the slayage, right? Since that would leave us free to concentrate on Spike?"

Buffy looked down at her hands, realised she was unconsciously rubbing them together, and slowly willed herself to stop,

"No." she admitted, slowly, "I just ... couldn't. _She wouldn't fight back_. Just kept saying she was here to back me up, and that the only way to stop her was to kill her. I was going to do it, too. But it seemed so wrong. I freaked. I just ran. I forgot all about getting Riley. I just ran ... here."

There it was again. That silent moment of stillness.

"Let me get this straight." Anya gestured with a spoonful of yoghurt, "The dead psycho who tried to steal your life and kill your friends isn't dead, but she gave you a free shot to kill her and you didn't take it because she said she wanted to be pals again? Are you on something?"

"Uh, yes. Thank you for the summary, Anya." Giles interrupted, "Perhaps if you explained a little more, Buffy?"

Buffy sighed, and slumped dejectedly in a chair,

"I had her pinned on the ground. Face down. She was helpless. But she just kept saying that there needed to be two slayers and that if I couldn't live with her I'd have to kill her -"

"I'm still failing to see the problem." Xander spread his hands, "Make nice with the lunatic or kill the lunatic. I wouldn't even need to 'phone a friend'."

"_But I just couldn't do it!_" Buffy yelled, leaping to her feet. "It's easy for you to pass judgement, Xander, but you don't know what it is like to be responsible for killing a _person_. When Faith and I killed Allan, I could have just crawled into a hole and hid. Or when I thought I'd killed Ted; before I knew he was just a robot. I was shattered. Give me a hundred vamps and I'll dust them all. But _people_, Xander. People are different. I'm not a killer, I'm a _slayer_."

Xander slapped the butter knife he was holding down on the kitchen bench. He looked away from her, and for a moment Buffy thought he was going to storm out. Then he sighed,

"I guess you're right, Buffy." he said slowly, "I don't know what it is like to kill a person. I hope I never do. But if Faith is in town it's going to put you off your game. And with Spike up to something sneaky that's got to be bad news. The question is, what are we going to about it?"

Buffy twisted her hands miserably,

"I don't know. I just don't know."

Faith paused at the door to her motel room. It was the same fleabag place she'd stayed in before the Mayor had set up her new digs. _Jesus, B. For a moment I really though you were going to do it. My hands are still shaking_.

She took a deep breath, then unlocked the door and entered.

The man who had been sitting waiting for her got to his feet,

"I wish you would have agreed to a less dangerous way of approaching Buffy." he said, quietly, "I was watching today. She came within a breath of killing you."

Faith shrugged,

"But she didn't. We talked about this, and you agreed that as long as I kept my cool, the chances were good that Buffy wouldn't kill me. And I had to let her know I was alive straight away. The longer I left it, the more suspicious it would have looked."

"Well, yes." the man admitted reluctantly, "But it was whether you could keep you temper that always worried me. I must say I was very impressed with how well you did."

"Hold on ... you were watching?" Faith was angry, "I told you not to! I told B we were alone, that what happened was just between her and me!"

"I was worried abo-"

"What would you have been able to do, if she _had_ attacked me?"

"Nothing." the man admitted, "But I couldn't just sit here whilst you went off to face her. It wouldn't have been right. I had to be there for you, whether I could help or not."

He trailed off, and for a moment they shared an uncomfortable silence.

"Thanks." Faith said, quietly. As a word, it was almost as hard as 'sorry'. _Because it's an admission of debt. Not that I don't owe him a lot, but it can be hard to say so_.

"Don't mention it." the man rested a hand on her shoulder, "I just wish I had been more supportive sooner. Perhaps then we would never have come to this impasse -"

Faith shook her head,

"There were plenty of people offering me support back then. I just wasn't willing to accept it."

The man made a soft, non-committal noise in his throat,

"So now what do we do?" he asked, softly.

"Now, we wait." Faith folded her arms and looked down at the threadbare carpet on the floor, "B's a smart girl. She and her friends will find us pretty quick. We haven't made any effort to hide, after all. What happens this is up to her. It has to be her choice."

"And what if her choice is to kill you?"

Faith looked up at him, and smiled, and he could see in her eyes that that was exactly what she was afraid Buffy would choose to do.

"Then you and Angel find the new slayer before the Council does, and you make sure she gets a better chance than they gave to me. But then, I know she will. She'll have a good Watcher."

Wesley Wyndham-Price blushed,

"If it comes to that, you know I'll do my best."

**Chapter Three**

Buffy rested her arms on the back of Willow's chair and looked at the redhead's glowing computer screen.

"You're sure? It was that easy?"

Willow nodded,

"Uh huh. She's booked herself in at the same place she stayed at when she first came here. Same room, even, I think. She's using the name Faith Clements."

"So how do we know for sure that it's her?" Xander asked from where he and Anya were half-sitting, half-snuggling on the couch, "I mean, there are other people called Faith in the world."

"Yeah, but how many of them came into Sunnydale yesterday and charged their room to a cheque account in the name of Angel Investigations?" Willow asked, pushing a strand of hair behind her left ear and trying not to look too smug.

"Point taken." Xander waved his finger in the air, "Remind me not to doubt you in future, Will -" he broke off as Anya raised the snuggle quotient by nibbling on his ear.

"So we know where she is." Buffy stood up, trying to ignore the way her heart was hammering in her chest. _Showdown. Whatever she's planning, she'll do it there_.

"There's just one other thing, Buffy." Willow twisted in her chair and gave the slayer a look of concern, "The booking is for two people."

Buffy felt a moment of sickness as her stomach lurched.

"You think she brought Angel?"

Willow opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again slowly. Finally, she half-nodded,

"Who else would she bring?"

The slayer sighed heavily and put her hands on her hips,

"She told me he wouldn't know if I killed her. I guess you can't trust those homicidal rogue slayers the way you used to."

Giles laid his hand gently on her shoulder. Buffy nearly started at the unexpected touch, but controlled herself at the last moment. _Giles is not usually touchy-guy. What gives?_

"You realise Buffy, that we could always just tell the Council where she is."

"_No_." even Buffy was surprised by the vehemence in her own voice, "No. You didn't see the way they were, Giles. When they had me prisoner and thought I was Faith. Or when they came after her in LA. They're no better than the things they fight." she paused, then went on, "I have to deal with this, myself. Angel or no Angel."

"We'll support you in whatever you choose to do." Giles reassured her quietly, "But I think you need to decide what that is, before you go there."

"But I don't _know_, Giles." Buffy shook her hands in front of her in frustration, "She makes me so ... so ... _confused_. She saved my life, then betrayed me. Then, _after_ I stick a knife in her, she told me how to beat the mayor. I waited months for her to wake up, hoping she'd be okay. But when she did, she was worse than ever. After that, I was finally ready to kill her, but when I went to help Angel, I find her sobbing in his arms and confessing to the police. _Now_ she's back and she says she wants to help. I just don't know what she _really _wants. I don't even know what _I_ want, anymore."

Giles squeezed her shoulder gently,

"We're all here to help you, Buffy." he reminded her.

"Well, all of us except Riley." Willow remarked, "We really ought to call him and get him here to help." She got up to move to the phone.

"No," Buffy waved her friend back to her seat, "Last time Angel was here, he and Riley were pretty much ready to kill one another. I don't need that to add to my worries when I go to see Faith. We'll keep Riley out of this one. Besides, it would be just like Faith to use him to hurt me, if he were there."

Willow sat down slowly on the armrest of the chair where Tara was sitting. The two witches clasped hands unconsciously,

"Is everything alright between you two, Buffy?" the redhead asked anxiously, "It's just that you seem to be pushing him away at the moment."

Buffy blinked. _Now she mentions it, I guess I haven't seen much of Riley in the last few weeks_.

"Yeah, Will. Everything's fine. I've just needed a little space to myself. All that stuff with the Initiative and Adam was pretty ... intense. Riley and I are still cool."

"Well, yes." Giles said uncomfortably, "Perhaps we should focus on the matter of Faith?"

Tara raised her free hand tentatively. Buffy smiled at her,

"You don't need permission to say something, Tara. Speak up. You're a Scooby now."

The blonde witch blushed,

"W-well, I don't know all that much about what happened with Faith before she took your body, but I remember that when I met her then, her aura was ... confused, chaotic. Like she was at war within herself. If you gave us some time, maybe Willow and I could do a spell to see what her aura was now. That might tell us something."

For a moment, everyone was silent. Even Xander and Anya paused in their necking. Tara began to look like she regretted ever saying anything.

And then a broad smile spread across her face as Willow hugged her enthusiastically and Buffy began to slowly nod,

"That's a great idea." the slayer told the now blushing blonde witch, "How quickly do you and Willow think you could rustle up that spell?"

"We'll need to get some ingredients from the magic shop." Willow said, her arm still around Tara, "but after that, just a couple of hours. We know where Faith is, after all. And we can use her kni-" she paused, "and we can find something of hers to use as a focus."

Giles nodded,

"I agree with Buffy. It's an excellent idea. I can see you'll be a very useful part of the team, Tara. We sometimes tend to overlook the potential of magic, I'm afraid."

By now, even the tips of Tara's ears were bright pink from embarrassment.

"We'll get started right away." said Willow, rescuing her lover from further praise, "come on, Tara."

The two witches quickly left, Tara's relief to be out of the other's attention clearly evident.

After the door had closed behind them, Xander shook his head in mock-wonderment,

"That Tara. Always has to be in the spotlight."

"I like her." Anya announced, "Since she won't try to steal my boyfriend."

"Your tolerance is an example to us all." Giles pinched the bridge of his nose, "but if we could keep our minds on the matter of _Faith_?"

"Well we _could_." agreed Xander, "But do you really need Anya and I now? If you aren't willing to risk taking soldier-boy to see Faith, Buff, I'm guessing you won't want either of us there, either. And there's a killer Roger Corman marathon this afternoon."

Buffy looked in surprise at Xander. _Now that _is_ odd. Xander always wants to get involved, no matter how dangerous it is. Something's wrong. But I don't have time to deal with him, now. It'll have to wait until this Faith thing is over_.

Aloud, she said only,

"Spot on, Xander. We'll call you when we're ready to talk about Spike again."

"Yeah. I look forward to it." Xander's tone was flat as he and Anya rose and left.

Giles and Buffy stared after them for a moment, silent.

"What was _that_ about?" the slayer muttered under her breath.

"Xander's history with Faith is, uh, colourful to say the least, Buffy. He doubtless has many unresolved emotions about her. And he could be worried about Anya's reaction to his ... physical liaison ... with Faith."

"Yeah, I guess." Buffy looked down at the floor. Then she turned to face Giles and her expression was completely blank, cold. Despite himself, the ex-watcher felt an urge to step back.

When Buffy spoke again, her voice was strained,

"I was just thinking." she said, "Faith told me that Angel had been keeping her informed about things here in Sunnydale. I didn't pick up on that at first, but it just occurred to me that I certainly haven't been sending him the gossip these past few months. And I've been around Willow enough of the time to know it wasn't her, either. So who else might it be?"

The slayer took a half-step forward and Giles shifted nervously.

Buffy continued to speak in that same, slow monotone,

"Xander perhaps? Or Riley? No, I don't think so. Angel's hardly their favourite person." she continued, "and Anya and Tara barely know him. The field's thinning, isn't it?"

"Yes, rather." the librarian said weakly, as Buffy came to a stop only an inch or two away from him.

"Anything you'd care to share, Giles?"

"Buffy," Giles started, trying to sound calm, "it is perhaps, not quite what you're thinking -"

"No? Then what is it, Giles? Because I'm sure you once promised never to betray me again, and this is feeling a _lot_ like betrayal."

"Yes, I suppose it must." Giles agreed, polishing his glasses at a frenzied rate, "But it wasn't intended as such. You see, Wesley felt somewhat responsible for all the things Faith had done -"

"Wesley felt responsible for her tying him up and _torturing_ him?"

"Yes. Even that. He felt that if he had been a better Watcher; more trusting, tolerant, friendly; that things might have been different. He wanted to try to reach out to her again, and since Faith was asking about you, he asked me to keep them up to date with things. He really seemed to think that telling her about you was helping her, Buffy."

"I'm sure it was." Buffy said fiercely, "Helping her plan her revenge. _Men_. You see Faith's pouty lips, her come-on eyes and her heaving chest and you're tripping over your tongues to help her. Then when she goes psycho it's up to me to deal -"

"_Buffy!_" Giles snapped, breaking into the slayer's increasingly strident monologue. The blonde girl stepped back, almost as if she had been physically struck.

"Buffy," Giles continued in a more careful tone, "I assure you that, self-evident though Faith's physical charms may be, they had no part in either Wesley's or my decision to help her, and I feel offended that you would suggest such a thing. Whilst I admit that I probably should have consulted you first, I did it because Wesley, for all his faults, has never given up on Faith. And neither should we."

Buffy clenched her fists, twisted away from Giles, then stepped back toward him. For a moment she seemed poised between hitting him and running away. Then she sighed slowly, and spoke in a soft, hurt voice, her head down,

"Please, Giles. Tell me that there's nothing else you are hiding from me."

Giles coughed,

"Whilst there are aspects of my personal life that I don't share with you, Buffy." he said earnestly, "I assure you that there is nothing that impacts on your duty as the slayer."

"I'm sorry, Giles." Buffy looked up at him, and he could see that she was close to tears, "I shouldn't have said what I did. It's just that the thought of you keeping something from me ... it hurts. It hurts more than I can say."

Giles rested a hand on each of her shoulders,

"I understand, Buffy." he said, awkwardly, "I know ... I know we don't say anything about it. And that you think I'm a stuffy old man at times. But ... well ... what I want to say is ... uh -"

"Giles," Buffy broke in gently, resting her hands on his, "it's okay. I know. You don't need to break that stiff upper lip for me."

"Oh thank goodness." Giles sighed in relief.

"Now," said Buffy firmly, "I'm gonna go see Mom and warn her about Faith. I'll check back here later to see if you have heard from Will and Tara."

"Yes. Yes. That sounds like an excellent strategy." Giles concentrated on polishing his spectacles.

"Love you, Giles." she said simply, and hugged him. After a moment of indecision, he awkwardly returned the embrace.

Buffy stepped back,

"And don't worry, I promise never to reveal your gushy paternal side to anyone. Well, probably not, anyway."

Giles smiled wanly,

"Take care, Buffy. Remember that Spike and Faith are still out there."

"Will do." she gave him a double thumbs-up and grabbed her coat from its hook. "I'll call in a couple of hours."

Willow and Tara sat cross-legged on the floor of the Summers' spare room. They were facing one another over a small brazier, which was still unlit. Miss Kitty, their never properly-named cat, was perched at the end of the bed, watching them both. She always did this when they were casting spells, and both witches found it endlessly adorable. This inevitably meant treats for Miss Kitty, and the young cat was looking very smug with itself about _that_.

"So, did you realise that Buffy thought we were ... you know ... in here?" Willow asked in a whisper. No-one else was home, but the subject seemed something that should be whispered about, even so.

Tara shook her head,

"No. I n-never thought they'd think that." her voice was as low as Willow's.

"Yeah." Willow mused, "I guess I always thought that they'd find us doing ... that sort of stuff ... in their house, a bit ... impolite."

Tara's eyes widened,

"You've been thinking about ... 'that sort of stuff'?"

Willow blushed,

"Haven't you?" she asked, quietly.

"Well, y-yeah. But I th-thought you wouldn't be r-ready, yet." Tara said, looking everywhere but at Willow.

The redhead reached out and touched Tara on the hand,

"I think I've been ready for a while. I just ... didn't want to do something in Buffy's house that she and her Mom would be upset about."

Tara nodded, then looked up at Willow through her fringe,

"Buffy didn't seem too upset by the idea of us doing ... that stuff."

"Yeah." it was Willow's turn to look down, "And I guess, if she doesn't, then maybe her Mom wouldn't either."

They both looked at the bed for a moment. Miss Kitty preened, assuming the attention was for her.

"We should do the s-spell, first. Buffy is relying on us."

"Yeah." Willow fought to keep her voice calm, "The spell. First. After that -"

"Call Giles."

"Yeah. Call Giles. Second. After that -"

They both looked at one another silently, then Tara smiled, and Willow felt a pressure come off her chest.

"Yes. After that."

"Hi Mom!" Buffy burst in through the door of the gallery, her good mood of the morning somewhat restored. _God, I can't believe how mean I was to Giles. Having Faith around really screws with my head. Not that I'm the only one acting strange. What was with Xander?_

"Hi, honey." Joyce looked up from her desk, where she was filling in an invoice, "Would you like a bagel? They're a few hours old, since I got them this morning when that order came in, but they should still be pretty good."

"Yeah, sure." Buffy snagged one of the bagels from a brown paper bag, "Geez, Mom, how hungry did you think you were? There must be half a dozen types in here!"

"Yes," Joyce said, not looking up from her papers, "I was, uh, not sure what filling I liked. Uh, felt like."

Buffy took a big bite of her bagel and said through a mouthful of pastry,

"Buh you are stric'ly a hum un cheese persuh."

Joyce shrugged,

"I just felt like a change, that's all. And please don't talk with your mouth full, dear."

"Surry." Buffy said through the last of the bagel.

"So to what do I owe this pleasure?" Joyce looked up from the invoice book and laid aside her pen, "I always thought Mom's work was a bit on the dull side for you. Surely you're not finally getting bored with the holidays?"

"No chance of that, I'm afraid." Buffy looked around for something to wipe her hands on. "Thanks." she added as her mother passed her a paper napkin.

"What do you mean?" Joyce gave her a puzzled look, "Is something wrong? Something slayer-y?"

Buffy drummed her fingers on the table and eyed the bag of bagels. Joyce smiled,

"Have another if you want."

Buffy reached out to the bag

_# Isn't it crazy how slaying always makes you hungry and horny? #_

she jerked her hand back.

"Uh, no thanks. I've had enough." Buffy shook her head. "And yeah, something 'slayer-y' _has_ come up. For one thing, we think Spike is up to something -"

"Spike? He's a vampire, right?"

"Yeah. One of the nasty ones. But that's not the main problem. The real thing I wanted to see you about is Faith."

"Faith, isn't she still in jail?"

_That's right. I never got around to telling Mom Faith was dead. Just as well, I guess._

"No. She's in town. I saw her this morning. She got Angel to help her fake her death. We think he may be in town as well."

"Is Angel ... is he evil again?"

"No. Or at least, we don't think so. We think he thinks Faith is better. She kept telling me this morning that she was here to help, whether I liked it or not. I wish I knew what she was planning."

"Could she really be here to help?"

Buffy stared at her mother, not sure if she had heard correctly,

"Pardon?"

"I said, 'could she really be here to help?'" Joyce repeated, "I know it seems unlikely, but when I saw her last -"

"When she was holding you hostage!"

"Yes, then. When I saw her then, she seemed so hurt and confused. She felt you had rejected her, Buffy -"

"That's not what happened!"

"I'm not saying it is, honey." Joyce placated her daughter, "but Faith was a very lonely young woman, and she seemed desperately to want to live up to your standards. When she couldn't, I think she blamed you for setting the bar too high."

"I never asked her to be any better than me!"

"But did you ask her to be better than she could be?"

"What?" Buffy couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Faith's a homicidal murderer and _I'm_ in the wrong? How the hell does that work?"

"Have I ever told you how proud you make me, Buffy?"

Buffy was taken by surprise by the change in topic,

"... yeah, Mom. Sure. Lots of times."

"And Mr Giles, too? And your friends?"

"Yes." Buffy frowned, "But what's the deal, Mom? Are you going to give me that 'poor Faith, she had a hard childhood' line? Because I've heard it before and it doesn't excuse what she did. Nothing could."

Joyce shook her head,

"No, Buffy, I'm not going to give you that line. What I want to remind you of is just how special _you_ are. It's not that you have special powers or that you've saved the world a dozen times. It's your character. Your courage, your compassion, your loyalty. It's coming to save me from a crazed vampire even though you didn't have your powers. It's risking your life in an endless war simply because it's the right thing to so. It's accepting your friends for who they are, even when what they are shocks the heck out of you."

Buffy said nothing, surprised and moved by her mother's words.

Joyce took her daughter's hands in her own and continued,

"When Faith came, you expected her to live up to your standards, even though you'd never expect it of Xander, or Willow, or me."

"But she was a _slayer_ -"

"Remember what I told you, honey. It's not the powers that make you so special. It's just _you_. Faith isn't you. She could never be you. Very few people could. But she _could_ be a good person, if she was given a chance."

Buffy looked down at her own hands, still clasped between Joyce's.

"So you're telling me I should give her another chance? Take her at her word?"

Joyce shook her head,

"I'm not telling you to do to anything, Buffy. It's your choice to make."

Buffy shivered and her mother looked worried,

"What's the matter, hon?"

"Nothing." Buffy took a deep breath, "It's just that Faith said almost exactly the same thing. That this was all about me making a choice."

Joyce nodded,

"Whether she's really reformed or not, she's right about that."

"But I don't know what the right thing to do _is_, anymore!" Buffy wailed.

Her mother smiled sadly,

"Welcome to being an adult, honey."

Giles picked up the phone in the middle of the fourth ring.

"Hello?"

"Giles, it's me." Buffy sounded strained, and her Watcher could clearly imagine the frustrated expression on her face.

"Ah, Buffy. Did you speak to your mother?"

"Yeah, I grabbed some lunch from her. Bagels. Mom had a whole bag."

"Oh. Quite." Giles twisted the phone cord around his hand, "How did she take the news about Faith?"

"Pretty well actually. She seems to be getting a grip on the trials and tribulations of being the one and only Slayer-Mom. So, did Will and Tara call?"

"Yes. About twenty minutes ago. Willow said the spell went off perfectly, but they didn't learn as much as they had hoped. Faith's aura is much less confused than it was before. Much more focussed, they said. That could mean she's reformed, or it could mean that she's lost any last qualms she may have had. Willow said that whichever it was, Faith seemed to be totally committed to it."

"Great." Buffy's tone said exactly how not-great she found the news, "Anything else?"

"Yes, Willow said to tell you that she's sure you'll make the right decision. Whatever you do."

There was silence at the other end of the phone line.

"Buffy?"

"Yeah, Giles. I'm here."

"Willow also said that Tara had some ideas for spells, if you wanted to call them. Though she said you'd have to give them an hour before calling. To clean up after the spell."

"Yeah, okay." Buffy sounded tired, "I'll do that."

"Oh, and Buffy?"

"Yeah?"

"Willow isn't the only one who knows you'll make the right choice. We all do."

"Thanks, Giles. It's good to know I have you guys."

"Always." he said, simply.

"I gotta go."

They both hung up. For several seconds, Giles stared at the phone. Then, silently, he said a prayer.

"Please, please let her make the right choice. Whatever it is."

Faith paced back and forth across the small motel room_. It's been hours. B shoulda found us by now. Jesus, I wish this was over. I always sucked at waiting_. _Instant gratification is much more my style_.

It wouldn't have been too bad if Wesley was still around to talk to, but she had sent him away soon after arriving back at the motel. She knew he wouldn't have gone far, but she didn't want him in the room when Buffy arrived. _If she comes in to kill I want to be the only one in the way_.

She couldn't remember when she had ever felt this knotted up inside. _Don't lie to yourself, girl. You can remember a dozen times just like this one. And B figured in almost every one_.

Pace to the window. Glance out. Not more than an hour until sunset. _Better get here soon, B. Whatever goes down, you'll need to patrol, afterward_.

Turn. Four steps. Almost all the way to the other side of the room.

The door clicked softly open behind her and she turned.

"B."

"Faith."

Buffy stepped inside and closed the door behind her, thumbing the lock that Faith had deliberately left open. She glanced around,

"Where's Angel?"

Faith frowned in confusion,

"In LA, far as I know."

"Don't play games, Faith." Buffy looked tense, but composed. _Beautiful and deadly. And so sure she's right. Why could I never be that sure?_

"I swear, B. He ain't here."

"We know you booked the room for two, Faith. You gonna tell me Cordelia came here with you?"

The thought was almost enough to make Faith smile, but she didn't know how Buffy would take that,

"No, not Cordelia. Wesley."

"Wesley? _Wesley_ came with you? Why the hell would he be here?"

"He's my Watcher."

Buffy looked stunned. _Woah, guess there are some chinks in that armour, B. Makes me feel better. I just hope you aren't here to do me. I don't want to die. But I will, if I have to._

"He's your _Watcher_?"

"Every Slayer has to have one, B. Just took me a little while to appreciate mine. Mainly on account of him being such a prat at first. But we're five by five, now."

"You're ... 'five by five' ... with Wesley. The man you _tortured_ only six months ago."

"Angel tortured Giles. You all forgave him."

"Angel got his _soul_ back."

"So have I."

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Buffy still seemed to be trying to take it all in. To process it. To regain control. Faith braced herself. _She's gonna do me. I never should have said that. She'll take it wrong_.

But the expected attack didn't come. _Jesus, can B see the sweat coming off me? Does she know how scared I am?_

"So," said Buffy carefully, "where is ... your _Watcher_?" She grimaced as she said the word.

"I sent him out. If you came to kill, I didn't want him in the way. He would have tried to stop you."

Buffy hooked back her jacket and pulled out a knife. _The_ knife. Faith felt herself go white. _Jesus. She still has that? But then, I guess this was always going to be the way it ended_.

"So you expect me to believe," Buffy said, idly waving the blade in her left hand, "that you're just gonna stand there while I gut you a second time."

"No." Faith shook her head, "I don't expect you to believe it. But it's what's gonna happen."

The blonde slayer switched the knife to her right hand.

"And if I was crazy enough to let you live? Does Wesley expect to stay in Sunnydale too?"

"Nope. If you do me, he and Angel will find the new Chosen One, and protect her from the Council. Stop them screwing her over like they did you and me." Faith paused, "If you don't kill me, Wesley will go back to LA to help Angel. There's already a Watcher here."

Buffy almost choked,

"You think I'll let you take Giles from me?"

"Jesus, Buffy. Nothing on this earth could take Giles away from you, least of all me. The man loves you like a daughter. Like a daughter _should_ be loved, anyways." Faith ran her hands through her hair. A nervous gesture, but she couldn't help it. _Not surprising, given that I'm scared out of my wits_. "But he can be Watcher to both of us. And Wesley thinks it would be for the best. Angel needs his help, and we thought you might be more comfortable if you knew I had no back-up."

Buffy laughed,

"Let me get this straight. You, who tried to kill me, and steal my life, and take away everything I loved. _You_ wanted me to be 'more comfortable'?"

"Jesus, B!" _Oh great, lose control. Now she really _is_ going to gut you_. "Just goddamn _do_ me already. I've never been good at this heart to heart shit and I used up everything I had this morning. Waste me and dump me. Wesley and Angel will do the rest."

Faith realised she was crying. _Christ, girl. You didn't shed a tear when she put that knife in you. Now you bawl because she hasn't killed you yet?_ The voice in her mind was mocking and sly. It was a voice she'd spent a lot of time listening to the last time she was in Sunnydale. Now, she pushed it down.

Slowly, Faith dropped to her knees. Her legs were shaking so much she couldn't have stood if she wanted to. Every instinct, every nerve was shouting at her to run, to fight, to take Buffy down before she lost her own life. But she did none of those things, simply watched the blonde slayer through slowly drying eyes.

Buffy cursed, and hurled the knife into the wall. The blade sank in, four inches deep at least. Cheap plaster cracked into dozens of fragments.

"You do what I say, when I say. The same for Giles. We have to know where you are and why you're there, twenty-four hours a day. Willow and Tara have some ideas for some spells to help us keep tabs on you. You'll co-operate with them. And if you ever even _look_ like hurting someone I love, I'll kill you faster than you can imagine. You got all that, Faith?"

Faith nodded,

"Five by five, B. Five by five."


	2. Chapter 2

**Watching Your Back (Part 2)**

**Previously ...**

It is the last week of the summer college holidays. Faith has returned to Sunnydale, apparently intent on reconciliation with Buffy and her friends. This came as something of a shock to the Sunnydale crew, who believed Faith to have died in prison. On top of this, they had recently come to suspect that Spike has some secret scheme in motion.

Buffy confronted Faith, torn between suspicion of the other Slayer and her reluctance to kill a young woman who resolutely refused to fight back. In the end, she simply found herself unable to slay Faith under those circumstances, and has grudgingly allowed her to remain in town. Subject to a few conditions, of course.

**Chapter Four**

Wesley Wyndham-Price slowly exhaled. He was leaning against the rough, slightly damp wall of an alleyway. He had been there over an hour, watching the run-down motel across the road. Ten minutes earlier, a blonde girl had gone into one of the rooms to speak to a brunette. Wesley was fervently hoping that both girls were going to survive the experience.

The brunette walked out onto the steps of the motel, looked in his direction, and beckoned with a broad sweep of her arm. Faith, one-time rogue Vampire Slayer, and now; Wesley believed; trying to make up for her mistakes.

He glanced each way as he moved out of the alley and across the street, but there were no cars in sight. Traffic died down pretty early in this part of Sunnydale. Despite their blindness to the evil which lurked throughout their town, the locals seemed fully cogniscent of the rather more mundane dangers of a bad neighbourhood.

As he reached the far curb, Wesley watched Faith worriedly. She appeared physically unhurt, though if he didn't know better he would have thought she had been crying. But the real question was what had happened between her and the blonde girl.

"Buffy?" he asked, drawing to a stop at the foot of the steps.

"Right here." the blonde girl, shorter and slighter than Faith, stepped out of the gloom of the motel room. Despite her smaller stature, she almost seemed larger to Wesley than the brunette beside her.

"Hello, Buffy." he nodded politely to her, his eyes still on Faith. She had definitely been crying. But then, it must have been very difficult for her to face Buffy after all that had happened between them.

"Wesley." the blonde slayer's tone was not quite unfriendly, but certainly not welcoming, "How's the arm?"

Both he and Faith started at the reference to the injury he had sustained six months before. The injury Faith had inflicted.

"It's better, thank you, Buffy." he answered evenly, remaining where he was at the bottom of the stairs. "Time heals all wounds."

"Maybe." Buffy did not sound convinced. "I've heard what Faith has to say, and I'm willing to give her a chance. If both you and Angel can put what happened behind you, then I should at least try to do the same. But if she puts even a toenail wrong, you'll be looking for a new charge."

"I understand." And he did. Buffy was taking a big risk that Faith's change of heart was legitimate. As had he and Angel. _But our only the alternative was to let her die_. "I'll head back to LA first thing tomorrow morning. Unless you'd prefer me to leave now -"

Buffy shook her head.

"Tomorrow is fine."

"I'll give Angel your regards." he wondered if Faith was going to say anything.

"Yeah." Buffy stuck her hands in the pockets of her jacket, "Cordelia, too."

"Certainly."

They stood for a moment, in an uncomfortable silence, until Buffy spoke again,

"Well ... I need to patrol. And I guess Faith intends to come with me. So we'll just grab her stuff and be gone."

Wesley blinked in surprise,

"You're not coming back here?"

"No." Buffy shook her head emphatically, "Faith's coming with me. It's part of the requirements of her staying."

Wesley glanced at Faith. She nodded imperceptibly. _I hope you know what you're doing_.

"Very well." he agreed, reluctantly, "Then I imagine this must be goodbye."

"Yeah." Buffy obviously wasn't in the mood for an extended parting.

Wesley slowly climbed the stairs, until he was standing beside Faith. He offered her his hand, and she shook it silently.

"Our best wishes are with you, Faith." he said, softly, "I know you won't let us down."

"Thanks, Wesley." for the first time since coming out of the room, Faith looked at him directly and he could see some of the old spirit in her dark eyes, "I won't forget what you've done for me."

He smiled. _There are moments when I know exactly how Giles came to love Buffy the way he does. And my charge is a far thornier rose than his_.

"Get your gear and let's go, Faith." Buffy's words were a command, but her tone was not as harsh as Wesley had feared it might have been. _Perhaps this will work out. Perhaps_.

In the time since her relationship with Riley Finn had begun, Buffy had become used to patrolling in tandem. She and Riley worked well together: her natural abilities complemented his training almost perfectly, and they very rarely found themselves in one another's way.

Once, it had been like that with Faith as well. But not now. They had been patrolling for nearly two hours, without even a single vampire being sighted. Which was hardly surprising, given the complete lack of co-ordination between them.

It wasn't that she didn't always know where Faith was. She kept the other girl in sight at all times: if she hadn't her nerves would have been completely frayed by now. But she no longer had a feel for what the dark-haired slayer was about to do. When they'd been patrolling together before, Faith had always been gung-ho and straight ahead. Completely incapable of sticking to a plan, it was true, but at least Buffy had known what to expect.

Now, however, the brunette obviously didn't know how she should act. One moment she would be exactly as she had been two years earlier: confident, even cocky, ready for a fight. The next, she would suddenly defer to Buffy, the two of them coming close to tripping over one another.

_Any half-alert vampire would have heard us coming a mile off_. There was no way they were going to come across any demons if they carried on like this.

"Is it usually this quiet?" Faith asked, stopping so suddenly that Buffy almost walked into her.

"Lately, yeah." Buffy said, "There were a few vamps last night, but I dusted them. It's always quiet after I put down some wannabe Demon King."

"And of course, any half-alert vampire would have heard us coming a mile off." Faith dumped her bag of belongings on the floor beside her. Buffy was still amazed by how small it looked.

"Uh ... yeah. My thoughts exactly." _Really my thoughts exactly. Creepy_.

"Sorry I'm so out of practice at this." Faith half-turned toward her, "I tell you I've come to watch your back and the first night I'm here I spend most of the time almost tripping you up."

Buffy raised her eyebrows. _Geez, an apology from Faith. Time was, I'd have walked a long way to hear one of those. I just hope it was sincere_.

"Don't sweat it." was all she said aloud, "I'm sure you'll get the rhythm back. Mean time, I figure we may as well call it a night. We're not getting anything accomplished out here."

"Okay." Faith crouched and picked up her bag once more, "Does that mean you're going to tell me where I'm spending the night, now?"

"Not quite." Buffy shook her head, "First, we have to stop by the Bronze."

"A club, B? Not quite what I'd expected."

"Maybe not. But Willow and Tara will probably be there." For a moment, she almost thought Faith went a little pale at the mention of the witches' names. _Must be imagining things_.

"Red, huh?" No, not imagination. There really was tremor in Faith's voice. "Well I guess I gotta start somewhere. May as well be with the toughest."

The Bronze was dark and loud and filled with college students in their last week of freedom. Music pounded rhythmically as the two slayers moved through the hot press of bodies toward Willow and Tara's table.

"I can't believe you're so freaked about this." Buffy said, leaning close to Faith and half-yelling to be heard over the music, "You tell me calm as can be that I can kill you or put up with you, but Willow's got you scared? She's a pussy-cat!"

Faith shook her head. _Jesus, I'd love to dive into this place. Lose myself in the beat_.

"B, if you believe that, then you don't know your friends half as well as you think you do." she gestured toward the table where the two witches were watching the slayers' approach. Willow's face was flat and expressionless.

Buffy shook her head, her confusion evident, then took Faith by the arm and steered her through the last of the dancing club-goers.

"Buffy." Willow spoke to her friend directly, voice calm, clearly not including Faith in her greeting. "I guess we know now what you decided to do about Faith."

_Ouch_. Faith winced inwardly. _This is going to be as tough as I thought_.

"I'm giving her a chance." Buffy agreed, glancing sidelong at the redhead. The coolness of Willow's greeting had obviously taken her somewhat by surprise.

"Hey, Red." Faith kept her tone as mild as possible. She turned to the blonde girl beside Willow. "Hi. Tara wasn't it?" She put out her hand slowly. _Might as well see how bad this will be_.

Tara blushed, then began to extend her own hand. But Willow caught her wrist gently, holding it away from Faith's grip.

The dark-haired slayer kept her hand outstretched, eyes on Tara.

"Willow." the blonde girl said gently, and the redhead released her wrist.

They shook hands carefully, each aware of the watchful eyes of both Willow and Buffy.

"Sorry about what I said last time we met," Faith said, uncomfortably, "it was way out of line."

Tara blushed and shook her head. In contrast, Willow locked her gaze with Faith's, challenging her silently. The slayer's first instinct was to return the stare, but she felt a sudden tension from Buffy and instead lowered her gaze. _Oh yeah. Mention last time we met. With me in B's bod. Very smooth, girl_.

"So." Faith said, ashamed to hear her voice crack slightly, "B says you guys have some ideas for witching me? Will it hurt?"

"Some." Willow said, her tone giving no indication of whether she was serious or not.

_Angel was right. Gotta head this one off early or my chance to make it right with B is over._

"You mind if I talk to you in private, Red?"

Willow stared at her for a moment, obviously surprised, then slowly shook her head. Faith turned to Buffy,

"We won't go far, I promise. Look after my bag?"

Buffy nodded mutely. _Still surprised by Red's 'tude, I guess_.

Faith slipped into a comparatively quiet corner of the Bronze. Willow followed, but kept a good space between them, her arms folded defensively over her chest.

"Okay. I'm listening. Say what you have to say." Willow's tone was clipped, almost sullen.

Faith took a deep breath,

"Look, Red ... Willow ... I'm not gonna lie to you. There's a lot of history between us, most of it me screwing up, and I can't take it back. We both know that. But I _can_ do things right this time. At least, I hope I can. B's said she's gonna give me a chance. She put a bunch of conditions on it, sure, but basically, she's giving me a chance. Now I gotta ask you to do the same."

Willow said nothing. Faith swallowed and went on.

"B thought you'd be pretty open to this. I guess you never filled her in on that chat we had at the Mayor's office. Well I remember it. You stood your ground better than I would have done, in your place. And when _you_ said I was out of second chances, I knew it was true. Maybe B doesn't see it yet, but I know that if _you_ don't give me a chance, then my shot at sorting things out with her is over. She might moon over some guy or another, but when you get down to it there are only three people Buffy loves unconditionally. Giles, her mom, and _you_. If any of you three shut me out, Buffy will too. Giles and Mrs S. I think I can win over. But with you I don't know where to start."

She paused. Still Willow said nothing, but her posture was a little less rigid. _I guess that's a good sign_.

"So what I'm saying, Willow, is that you have the power here. If you say I should get a shot at this, then I'll get one. If you say no, then B will close me out. Maybe not straight away, but it'll happen. You and her are too tight for it to go any other way. So that's my pitch. I'm in your hands now."

Willow looked at her silently for a few more moments, then spoke: softly, but with conviction.

"You can have your chance to make things right. And you better hope to God that you don't screw up again, because if you do I won't wait for Buffy to give up on you. I'll take you apart myself and save her the pain. Last time, when you went psycho-slayer on us, she blamed herself as much as she did you. Hell, she still feels responsible for Allen's death. I won't let that happen again. You got me, _Faith_?"

The slayer nodded, slowly.

"I got ya, Red."

"_The funny thing about apologising," said Squirrel, just before 'lights out' one night, "is that it can be very empowering."_

_Faith leaned over the edge of her bed and peered down at the woman on the lower bunk,_

"_Sure." she said wryly, "I'll just say 'Gee, sorry about the whole homicidal mania thing' and everyone'll be under the awesome power of my remorse."_

_Squirrel shook her head,_

"_Smoke?" It was the fourth time she'd offered that day._

"_No thanks." And the fourth refusal._

_The older woman shifted onto her side. She was dressed in faded prison clothes, and looked about forty years old, with her greying blonde hair and lightly seamed face. Her nicotine-stained fingers lightly gripped her latest cigarette. The smoke from them had been tickling Faith's nostrils for over an hour._

"_That's not what I meant, little Miss." she paused to draw in a lungful of smoke. Faith wrinkled her nose._

"_So what did you mean, O wise woman?"_

"_I've been here a long time." Squirrel gestured at the walls of the shabby grey prison cell. They were strewn with pictures torn out of magazines. Mostly baby-faced young actors. _Squirrel has a real cradle-snatching thing going on_. "And I can tell you that there are two types of people who come to prison."_

"_Guilty and innocent?"_

"_Guilty about it and not guilty about it." Squirrel blew smoke at her dark-haired cell-mate. "The ones who aren't guilty about it, well if they ever get out then pretty soon they're either dead or back in here."_

"_Uh huh." Faith nodded; a rather clumsy gesture due to the way she was hanging over the edge of the upper bunk. "And the 'guilty about it'?"_

"_Well," said Squirrel slowly, drawing things out now that she knew she had the younger woman's attention, "They come in two sorts, too. The ones who lay the blame on others, and the ones who know enough to own up to what they did."_

"_Let me guess. The first bunch end up dead or back here, but the second bunch become productive members of society?"_

"_Nothing so trite." Squirrel pinched off the remnants of her cigarette and flicked it into a small bowl, which was already half-full of such debris. Faith knew that first thing the next morning the older woman would search through the bowl for any unburned tobacco she could salvage._

"_So what happens to them, then?"_

"_The ones who blame others end up going down the same path again, but second time round it's all wound up another notch. They don't normally come back here because they're so pissed at everyone that the only way to stop 'em is to kill 'em. Often enough, that's what they want. Depending how things play out, they sometimes take a lot of other folk with 'em."_

_Despite herself, Faith felt her skin crawl. _Yeah, they could torture some English guy to make sure his boss is angry enough to kill them, for instance

"_And the others?"_

"_The ones who know enough to apologise for what they did?" Squirrel hooked her hands behind her head, "To be honest, they normally end up back here as well. Once a Con, always a Con." she glanced at Faith, "but sometimes -"_

"_Yeah?" Faith was surprised at how husky her voice was._

"_Sometimes they have pretty special people out there waiting for them. Sometimes that's enough." Squirrel blinked slowly, "you got anyone like that, little Miss?"_

_Faith had just opened her mouth to reply when Squirrel suddenly shot bolt upright, a hacking cough whipping through her._

"_Jesus, Squirrel! You okay?" Faith pulled at her bedclothes, trying to swing out of her bunk, but the blankets seemed to be tangled around her feet._

_Squirrel drew in air with a wet, whooping gasp. Her back spasmed, and she turned to face Faith, her eyes turning red as blood cell after blood cell burst behind them._

"_Shit!" Faith thrashed more urgently at her sheets, but still could not get free._

_Squirrel's cheeks collapsed inward, the skin of her face turning grey and mottled. Her tongue, thick and blackened, lolled obscenely from her mouth._

_Truly panicked, Faith pulled angrily at the bedclothes. They came away easily in her hands, and with a yelp of surprise she toppled off the edge of the bunk and _

_felt_

_herself_

_falling_

Faith's eyes snapped open. Slowly, she drew in a lungful of air, then sat up.

She was locked in an old crypt somewhere in one of Sunnydale's many cemeteries. She didn't want to ask why, but this particular tomb had a set of metal bars cordoning off one end. _A ready-made slayer-cage_.

This had been the main reason for stopping at the Bronze to see Willow, Buffy had explained. Apparently this was the place they used to cage Willow's Werewolf-Ex whenever full moon came around. _B said she didn't feel right just sticking me here without Red's OK_. Faith wondered idly what Buffy planned to do if Willow had objected to the plan. _But that wasn't what it was really about, I guess. She wanted Red's OK for letting me stick around_.

_Squirrel_. Faith sighed. She'd hoped that thinking about her latest accommodation would distract her from the dream she'd just had. _No dice, it seems_.

She'd been in prison nearly two weeks before she'd learned what most people found out in a day: in prison, you have to have someone to watch your back. She'd thought her slayer abilities would be enough to keep her safe: had cracked a few heads to prove how tough she was. _But if enough people jump you while you're distracted, slayer powers don't mean jack. You saved my ass that day, Squirrel. Wish I coulda done the same for you._

She shivered and pulled her jacket tighter around her. Even in summer, the gloomy chamber was pretty cold at night. A glance through the small leaded-glass window told her that it was getting fractionally lighter outside. _Must be near dawn. Firing squad'll be here soon. Wonder if I'll get a last meal?_

Her stomach growled appreciatively at the last thought, but she ignored it, thinking about the coming day. _The way news travels in this town, the whole crowd knows what went down with B. I guess I should be glad I got a chance to talk to Red last night. Things are likely to get pretty heated today_.

That had been the last thing Buffy mentioned to her before locking her in. _A 'Scooby Meeting' she called it. I'll take Bugs and Daffy over that stupid dog any day._

Still, it meant one, clean face-off with the whole Sunnydale crew. In some ways that might be easier. Empowering though it might be, she still found apologising pretty hard to do. This way, she could just go in once, say her bit, and make peace with all of them.

_Yeah, like that'll happen._

**Chapter Five**

Riley Finn had just shrugged into a t-shirt and was scooping up his keys when someone knocked on his door. He frowned briefly, not sure if the knock was his imagination or not. It had sounded tentative, almost like the person had experienced second thoughts and tried, just too late, to stop.

The knock came again, the time with more certainty, and he moved over to answer it, swinging the door open about half-way.

"Hey." he said, his face breaking into a broad smile.

"Hey yourself." Buffy Summers answered, almost bashfully, "Can I come in?"

"Actually," he said, showing her his keys, "I was just about to head out and get some much-needed exercise. I've been getting a bit soft since the Initiative has left town. Why don't you come along?"

To his surprise, Buffy shook her head,

"This kinda can't wait."

_Idiot_. He scolded himself. _Buffy's worried about something._

"Come in." he stepped aside and held the door open for her. She stepped past without her usual kiss of greeting. He could see the tension in the way she held herself and moved.

Riley closed the door and tossed his keys back onto the table. His on-campus apartment wasn't large, but Buffy was standing about as far away from him as possible without leaving the same room.

"What's this about, Buffy?" he asked, becoming worried. _We haven't seen much of one another in the last few weeks, and now she does come over, she seems even more distant_. A sick sensation twisted in his gut. _Is she with someone else?_

"It's Faith." she said suddenly.

"Huh?" he said, only semi-coherent. _No. She couldn't mean _that_. Get a grip on yourself_.

"She's come back to Sunnydale." Buffy continued. He felt relief wash over him. Now this was a situation he understood. And which explained Buffy's nervousness.

"Okay." he said, thinking about what he would need, "give me a few minutes to get my gear together, then we'll head out to look for her. No point waiting for her to come to us again."

"What?" Buffy shook her head and he broke off, surprised. "No. I already know where she is -"

"Oh." Riley paused for a moment, "Then I guess you should call Giles. See if he has any ideas for facing a slayer. And Willow and Tara: they may have some ideas for slowing her down, making our job easi-"

"Riley." Buffy interjected softly, lifting one hand in a quieting gesture. "Please, just listen to me."

He stopped, his concern growing. _She looks really upset. Has Faith done something already?_

"Is anyone hurt?" he asked urgently, unable to help himself.

"Hurt?" Buffy looked surprised. "Oh, no. No, nothing like that. Look, this is going to sound a little strange, so you may want to sit down." she paused whilst he slowly did as she suggested, "Faith says she's come back to help me."

"_What?_" Riley got to his feet again in a hurry, his chair tumbling backwards as he did so. _She made me hurt you, Buffy. I'll never forgive her for that_. He remembered how difficult it had been for them to talk about Faith. _She's brought so much misery to Buffy's life._

"Riley, please!" Buffy looked so upset that for a moment he thought she would stamp her foot.

"Sorry." he rubbed the back of his head. "Go on." _I can't believe this. After everything Faith did to hurt us, we're supposed to believe she's here to help?_

Buffy sighed and looked down, obviously collecting her thoughts.

"Look," she said at last, "I'm not sure that I believe her, but every time I think I've talked myself into giving up on her, something stops me. And there's something about her this time ... she's just so convincing."

"So you're going to trust her." he kept his tone flat and factual. "After what she did to us."

Buffy's face crumbled, tears coming to her eyes. It felt like someone had kicked him in the chest. _Damn, she made me hurt you again._

"I'm sorry, Riley." she half-turned away from him, leaned wearily on his table, "I keep trying to hate her. I really do. I keep telling myself that nothing can make up for what she's done. But then I remember all the other times we've trusted people who once seemed like an enemy, or a threat. Oz, Angel, Spike, Anya. Even you, Riley."

"Trusting Spike was a mistake." Riley reminded her. "I think this will be, too. Wait a minute. _Me?_"

"You _did_ secretly belong to an evil government project." Buffy said. "I know you didn't realise what the Initiative was like at first. And I know that when you did realise, you chose to help us. But we had no guarantee that you would. You could have betrayed us at any time. Willow, Xander, Giles ... me. We all just had to have a little faith in you."

He swallowed,

"And now you want me to have a little faith in ... Faith?" _The difference between me and her is, I never knowingly betrayed you. Faith did, again and again._

"Yeah, I guess I do. We're having a meeting this morning at Giles' and I'd like you to be there. I'm going to pick up Faith straight after I leave here, so you only have about twenty minutes to decide what you're doing."

Riley sighed. _I'd hoped that, with the Initiative out of the way, things would be a little less confused. I should have known that something, someone actually, would mess that up. Well, whatever she's up to, I'm going to make sure she doesn't get a chance to do it._

"Okay." he said finally, sounding more decisive than he felt. "I'll listen to what Faith has to say. But I'm coming with you to get her. And I'm taking my gear. Just in case. Deal?"

Buffy nodded, a small smile at last appearing on her face,

"Deal."

Riley turned to go to the bedroom, then turned back. _Oz, Angel, Spike -_

"Anya?"

Spike stood at the mouth of his lair, watching the sunrise.

He smirked, his lips clamped firmly around a cigarette. Put that way, it sounded positively suicidal. But it was early enough that the sun's rays were still splashing harmlessly against the wall several feet above his head. _Be at least ten minutes before the blasted thing is high enough to be a danger_.

His smirk faded as he considered his next course of action. Things had been going very well for him since Adam learned why it didn't pay to tackle the slayer head-on. But four of his newbies had become careless and had been dusted for their troubles. _Could have tipped the slayer off_. He could hope that it hadn't, but he couldn't rely on it. _He might be a ponce, but Rupert's pretty sharp. The little redhead, too_.

He tossed the cigarette on the floor and ground it out beneath his boot. Slowly lit another, glancing as he did at the sunlight on the wall above him. _Eight minutes_.

Spike knew that most vampires despised humans. Considered them cattle, fit only to be fed upon. Which was true enough. But he despised most vampires even more. They were worse than cattle. _They're sheep. Willing enough to follow a strong leader, but put him down and they run and hide_. He had used that to his advantage after the slayer gave Adam his final lesson in the way the world worked. The cyborg had become something of a spiritual figure to many of the vampires in Sunnydale, and his death had cowed them even more than had that of the Master, or the Mayor.

_Easy pickings_. Spike smirked again, remembering how simple it had been to take control of the situation. A few stakings, of course, but mainly just threats. _When you've survived as many scrapes with the slayer as I have, it does wonders for the reputation. More than killing two of them in the past, for some reason_.

Vampire numbers had been substantially depleted after the slayer and Adam had finished their little dispute. He'd been building them up slowly, carefully, ever since. The plan had been to keep what he was doing secret from the slayer, so he could surprise her with his strength when the time came for a confrontation. _And until those four idiots tangled with her two nights ago, I'm pretty sure she didn't have a clue what was going on_.

A frown slowly replaced the smirk. He had people watching the slayer, of course. At night, anyway. Daytime surveillance was not really an option when you only had vampires to work with. The reports he'd received during the night indicated that she'd had someone with her on her latest patrol. _Not the soldier-boy, either_. _A change in her routine, so soon after those idiots got themselves killed. Has to be connected_.

He cursed and glanced up. _Five minutes, maybe less_. He needed to know that the slayer was up to. _And since she and her groupies insist on plotting in the daytime, that means I need some new help_. The problem, of course, was getting that help. The demons in Sunnydale didn't care for him much, and anyway they were as depleted as the vampires would have been if he hadn't taken a hand. With the chip in his head deactivated, he was back up to full strength, so he could always beat someone into keeping an eye on the slayer, but he needed a more co-operative agent than that.

_It's decided then. Road-trip. I have to hire a little help if I want to complete my slayer hat-trick_. He glanced up for the last time as he threw the now spent cigarette aside. _Two minutes. Nice to see a little pressure still clears the mind_.

Spike retreated into his lair, closing and locking the door firmly as he did so.

"Harm!" he yelled, "Pack your things. We're taking a trip!". He pointed suddenly at one of the vampires lounging within the lair. "You! Make yourself useful and check that the car is ready to go. I want to be out of here in an hour."

The vampire took off at a run, well aware of what happened to those who Spike felt were slow to do as he ordered. Spike smiled. _Fear. Only thing that'll keep the bastards honest_.

He turned just in time to catch Harmony Kendall as she leapt into his arms. Her legs locked around his waist as she kissed him firmly on the mouth.

"Where're we going, lover?" she asked, grinding her hips against his. He grinned savagely and kissed her back. She'd been one of the first to come over to him, when he started this. Said she forgave him for trying to kill her. _Dense cow. I'd stake her in an instant for another chance with Dru_. Still, she had her uses.

"Right now?" he said, "We're going to bed. After that, I thought we'd do a little shopping in LA."

Faith looked up as the door of the crypt creaked open.

"Hey, B." she said, then felt her face fall as she saw who was behind the blonde slayer.

"Faith." Buffy's tone was reserved. "I believe you've met Riley."

"Yeah ... sorta." Faith answered slowly. _Geez, B, this is hitting below the belt. In all kinds of ways_.

Riley folded his arms, but said nothing. He was wearing a sports jacket, khaki pants and steel-capped boots. _Bit warm for the jacket, stud. Carrying a little something extra underneath, huh?_

They were all silent for a moment. Faith felt angry and hurt that the blonde girl had brought Riley with her. It was bad enough that Buffy didn't trust her enough to come alone. That she could accept, even understand. _But to bring Rebound Guy was a bit harsh_.

Faith rose slowly from where she had been sitting on the crypt floor. Buffy glanced between her and Riley, her expression making it obvious that she was beginning to think this had been a mistake. _Bit late, B_. Riley continued to look at her impassively, as if waiting for something.

Probably an apology, she realised. _Well, screw him. I've settled things with B. He can damn well wait to get his 'sorry' with the rest of them_.

Aloud, she said only,

"You're gonna have to find a better place to keep me than this, B."

Buffy started, as if surprised by the comment. Riley frowned,

"Looks pretty suitable to me." he snapped. "And you're hardly in a position to make demands."

Faith shrugged, sure it would irritate Riley further,

"Hey, it's five by five with me. I've stayed in worse. But I figured if B wants a little more peace of mind she'll need to find something a little more secure."

"Faith," Buffy broke in, "that ... cage ... held a werewolf. That makes it strong enough to hold you, too."

Faith cracked her knuckles.

"Thing is, B." she said slowly, "Werewolves are strong, but not too smart. I'm guessing Ozzy boy bounced around in here, throwing himself against the bars every now and then. Not much of a plan for escape, there. Now me ..." she looked around the crypt for effect, "I can see four ways out of here after just one night as a guest."

"Really?" Buffy folded her arms in unconscious imitation of Riley. "Care to share, _F_?"

Faith bit off a sarcastic retort. _Better chill, girl_.

"B." she said quietly, walking up to the bars, "I'm not doing this to hurt you or make you feel like you screwed up. I'm doing it because I need to show you that you can trust me."

Buffy swallowed, then nodded.

"Okay, Faith." she answered at last, her tone now more controlled. "Tell me what you see."

"One. Padlock." Faith pointed at the item in question, "I'm guessing you picked it for strength and durability. Which is all you need for a werewolf. But I recognise the model. The locking mechanism is pretty simple. If I stuck at it, I could probably pick it. Two, I could smash the window. Who the hell puts a window in a crypt anyway? Only in Sunnydale, right?"

"It looks a little small." Buffy observed, staring at the leaded glass.

"Maybe." Faith shrugged, "But I'm a pretty flexible girl. And once I'd smashed it, I could probably prise out some of the brickwork. Might take a few hours, but I'd have all night."

"And three?" asked Buffy dully, remembering how she had needed to keep telling herself that Faith was safely locked away in order to sleep the night before.

"That bar there." Faith tapped it, "it's a bit loose. If I worked on it, I could probably push it out eventually." she paused, then continued. "Fourth, the ceiling. I'm pretty sure I could punch a hole through it. Chances are good that there is a space between it and the roof. I crawl up into that, then go through the roof."

"Spells." Buffy said, "We could get Willow and Tara to magic the whole cell so that you couldn't get out."

"Might work." Faith conceded, "but maybe not. And it would take enough magical energy that they wouldn't be much good for anything else, right?"

Remembering Willow's comments outside Giles' the day before, Buffy nodded reluctantly.

Riley spoke suddenly,

"Well, I'm convinced."

"Riley?" Buffy turned to him, her expression confused.

"I've listened to Faith's little lecture." he said, "And I'm convinced. Convinced we don't have the resources to hold her safely. Look, Buffy, the government still has that sorcerer you captured. Maybe we could find out who to contact, get them to take her -"

"No." Buffy's refusal came an instant before Faith could voice her own. "Not a chance. Even if I didn't find the idea repulsive, it would be too risky. What the Initiative did with demons was bad enough. I don't want to think what they could do with a slayer."

"Then the people Giles knows. The Watchers. They said they had some way of re-educating her, right -"

"_No_." Faith's voice shook with the venom she put into it, "There is no goddamn way _they_ are getting me. I'd rather you kill me now, soldier-boy."

"I'd be happy to." Riley gritted back.

"_Enough_." Buffy's voice was sharp. "Riley, the Watchers are no better than the Initiative."

"Then what do you suggest we do?" he sounded weary suddenly, resigned. "Since Faith has so ably demonstrated our inability to hold her securely?"

"Well ..." Buffy said slowly, "obviously we were going about this all wrong. We can't leave Faith unattended the way we did Oz. Not unless we can learn to trust her. And whilst I'd like to trust you, Faith, I can't. Not yet."

"We're cool, B." Faith said softly, though Buffy's admission was painful to her.

"We use guards, then." Riley said. "Take it in turns."

Buffy shook her head.

"Faith is a _slayer_, Riley." she reminded him quietly, "the only one who could handle her is me. And it wouldn't be fair to ask the others to put themselves in so much danger."

"Then what do we do?"

"There's only one thing we can do." Buffy answered, her tone suddenly confident, "Faith has to move in with me."

"_What?_" Faith's and Riley's voices rose together.

"It's the only thing that makes sense." Buffy explained, "This way I'll always know where Faith is at night. It'll make taking her on patrol easier, too."

"Buffy," Riley objected, "you can't be serious. Think of the risk to your mother. And to Tara and Willow -"

"Not Mom's place." Buffy broke in. "_Mine_. I had to move back to the campus tomorrow anyway. And with Willow and Tara set to share a place, I'm due a new roomie."

"B." it was Faith's turn to object. _I can't believe what I'm hearing_. "That room is for students."

"No problem." Buffy said dismissively, "Willow can set you up in the student records and assign you to my room."

"Buffy, that's crazy." Riley argued. "You want us to leave you alone in a room with her? Asleep?"

The blonde shrugged,

"If she wanted to come after me, Riley, there would be much easier ways to do it." she turned to Faith and grinned a little bashfully, "The fact is, that if you're going to stay here, we're going to have to trust you at some point. I guess maybe I can find a way to do that after all."

The brunette felt her mouth working, but knew that nothing intelligible was coming out. She closed it with an act of will, then took a deep breath.

"Jesus, B." she quipped, desperate to cover the emotional tumult she felt inside. "Keep talking like that and you'll have me buying you roses."

Buffy laughed softly, but Faith's eyes were on Riley. He evidently didn't see the funny side. _Gonna be trouble from that one, girl_.

**Chapter Six**

Arriving last at Giles' apartment to find everybody waiting for them probably should have felt more like an inquisition, but Faith felt strangely confident. _This isn't the real test_. She realised that now. _It's just a ceremony that has to be observed. The prodigal slayer returns. The real test is tomorrow, and the days after. It's sticking to what I've begun, rather than fouling it up the way I usually do_.

They were arrayed around Giles' living room when Buffy led her inside. The room hadn't changed much from when she'd watched them meet there seven months before. Giles was standing near the middle of the room, unconsciously dividing it into two halves. On his left Xander and an attractive young woman she didn't know were sharing the couch. Riley was heading for a chair on that side too. _The hostile half_. On Giles' right, Willow sat at a desk, working on the computer. Tara stood behind her, one hand on the redhead's shoulder. For a moment, she thought the blonde girl gave her a small smile of encouragement. _The ... less hostile half, I guess_.

Buffy, to her surprise and gratitude, remained standing beside her.

"Well," said Giles, "I think it is pretty evident to everybody why we're here -"

"Yeah, there's a psycho-slayer in town." Xander said with mock joviality. "How are ya, Faith? Kill anyone today?"

"Nope. You volunteering?" the words were out of her mouth before she could think about them. She flushed. _That's a pretty fast foul-up, even for you_.

Xander spread his hands and looked pointedly around the room before settling back into the couch.

"My work here is done." he announced.

"Listen, you little pipsqueak -" she jabbed a finger at him, her carefully preserved self-control fraying at last. She broke off, hauling in her emotions. _Damn, he always did get under my skin_.

"Faith." Buffy gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

She shrugged the hand off, half-turning on the other slayer. _Just haul off one nice shot to her face and they'll be all over you. Then it's goodnight, Faith_. The thought was tempting. For the briefest of moments, she felt her first clenching. Then she swore softly and turned back to Xander.

"Listen, Harris." she snapped, "I didn't come here to bond with you, or to make friends with you, or to ask you to trust me. Frankly, I don't care about any of that. I didn't even come here to apologise to you. Or you." she stabbed a finger at Riley, "Or you. Whoever you are." the girl next to Xander scowled, but said nothing. "I am here to help _Buffy_. I'm not interested in your Scooby club, or whatever it is you call it, and I sure ain't interested in you."

It felt good to unload. She knew playing it meek was smarter, but she could only take so much.

"Hey!" the girl beside Xander stood up, "that's my boyfriend you're talking to!"

Faith smirked,

"Your boyfriend? Listen sister, I had him first and let me tell you, you're welcome to it."

Both Xander and his girlfriend went pale simultaneously. Faith grinned,

"Didn't tell you that, did he?"

The girl deflated, bursting into tears and running into one of the other rooms. Xander stood, hands clenching and unclenching. The he pointed at Faith,

"You see?" he said, his voice unsteady, "You see what I mean about her? It's been two minutes and already she's screwing us again!"

"Why Xander," Faith purred, "Time was when another screwing from me was all you wanted."

Riley stood and walked to the front door of the apartment.

"I've seen enough." he said quietly, to Buffy. "Call me when you've come to your senses about this."

"Riley -" Buffy reached out to stop him, but he stepped out of the door and closed it behind him.

Faith felt ice form in her chest. _That's it. I blew it already. Gotta be a goddamn record_.

She turned back toward the room. Just in time to see Xander throw the punch.

His fist caught her on the left side of her mouth, splitting her lower lip and knocking her backward into a bookcase. She straightened slowly from the blow, wiping at the trickle of blood coming from her lip.

"Pretty good shot, Harris." she said. _Better than I expected. Much better_.

He glared at her without saying anything, then stalked off to find his girlfriend.

Slowly, Faith turned to face Buffy. The blonde slayer looked stricken.

"Sorry, B." she muttered through her swelling lip. "I really thought I was gonna do better this time around. Guess I'm still the same screw-up I always was. You wanna do me now, or wait for them to cool down and come back, so they can watch?"

Buffy looked at her with unfocussed eyes.

"He ... he _hit_ you." she said suddenly, "And he ... he _left_." she gestured at the door through which Riley had gone.

"Yeah, B." Faith looked down, "Everything got screwed up. Just like always. No surprise that I was involved, right?"

Buffy shook her head. For a moment Faith thought it was in answer to her comment and the ice in her chest squeezed tighter. Then Buffy spoke,

"I will _not_ let this happen again." the words were almost snarled. She looked up at Faith, "I _can't_ let this happen again." Tears began to roll down her cheeks.

"Geez ... B." Faith was at a loss. Tentatively, she reached out to the other slayer.

Buffy slid into her arms, and Faith held her gently, stroking the smaller girl's hair as she cried.

Giles made tea.

To some people, he supposed, this mundane action in the midst of so much emotion would have seemed laughable. But he knew that the routine of making a pot of Prince of Wales would help calm his own nerves, and that both slayers would benefit from the soothing effect of the drink.

The girls accepted the offered cups wordlessly. It had been almost five minutes since Buffy stopped crying. Both had tear-stained faces, making it clear that Faith has been as overwrought as Buffy.

Xander and Anya were still lurking somewhere else within the apartment. Willow had gone to look for them at one point, but had come back red-faced and muttering that 'they need a few more minutes'. Giles was doing his best not to think about what _that_ could mean.

"Well," he said, sitting between the two slayers and taking a sip of his own tea. "I'm sure it doesn't seem that way at the moment, but things _could_ have gone worse."

"How exactly?" Faith growled softly, not lifting her gaze from the cup in her hands.

"You could have hit Xander back." Willow suggested. She and Tara were sitting on the couch, hands clasped, watching Faith and Buffy with wide, slightly frightened eyes.

"Yes." agreed Giles slowly, "that could have made things worse. As an example."

Faith grunted, unconvinced.

Buffy frowned,

"Don't bullshit us, Giles." the librarian blinked in surprise, "That couldn't have gone worse if we tried. Faith and Xander had a screaming match. Riley walked out on me. Xander _hit_ Faith. And all I did was burst into tears like some sort of five year old."

"Both of us, B." Faith reminded her, "Both big, bad slayers bawling like a pair of babies. Guess I bring out the pathetic in us both." she sipped her tea absently.

Despite herself, Buffy couldn't help but smile at the incongruous image presented by the leather-clad, tea-drinking slayer.

"I hardly think your reactions are so surprising." Giles said mildly, "the last two days have put you both under a great deal of strain, and this was obviously too much, too soon."

"Yeah, well I've screwed the whole deal now, haven't I?" Faith peered into her cup, swirling the last of the tea experimentally. "This isn't bad. Better than the crap you get in prison." she suddenly realised they were all looking at her, "What? I like tea. Can't a girl have hidden depths?"

Willow did her best to look positive,

"Well we can't say for certain that the whole deal is scr- uh, messed up." she said hopefully, "I mean, Tara and I will stick by you Buffy. And you, Faith. And Giles is gonna be major support guy too, right Giles?"

"Yes, of course." Giles murmured, "Pleased to help in whatever way I can."

"Know any spells to help Xander let go of his anger?" Faith asked sourly.

"No need." Xander's voice was clear, if a little tentative. They looked up to see that he and Anya were standing just inside the room. Xander looked rather dishevelled, with a dark bruise forming on his cheek. He held a small white tube in his hand.

"Here." he offered the tube to Faith, hesitantly. "It's antiseptic cream from Giles' first aid kit. For your lip."

"Thanks." Faith took the tube without actually looking Xander in the face.

"I'm ... uh ... sorry about what I said earlier." Xander wiped his hands on his shirt, nervously. "Anya and I had an ... um, talk."

"I expressed myself _forcefully_." Anya supplied helpfully.

"I'd noticed." Buffy replied dryly.

"Yeah." Xander shifted nervously, obviously uncomfortable with the subject. "Anyway, Anya said I'd been a bit out of line and that I should apologise, and I guess she's right. I didn't really give Faith a chance today."

"Wait a minute," Faith said to Anya, puzzled, "You told him _he_ was out of line after I told you we'd slept with one another? How does that work?"

"Men are pigs." Anya answered. Faith, seeing that this was sufficient explanation for everybody else, let the matter rest.

"So." said Buffy slowly, setting aside her largely untouched tea. "You two are okay with the idea of Faith staying in Sunnydale?"

"I wouldn't say we're okay with it." Xander admitted honestly, "but we figure that if you think she can be trusted, then we should back your judgement. I guess you must have a better insight into Faith than the rest of us, what with the, uh, bodyswap earlier this year." he flushed as he realised what he was saying, "Not, of course, that I would bring up such a painful subject so you must just all be hearing things."

"Perhaps you have said enough for now, Xander." Giles suggested.

Xander nodded mutely.

"So the gang's all back together." Willow glanced around happily.

"Except Riley." Buffy said.

"Oh." Willow looked crestfallen.

"He'll come round, B." Faith assured her, "Just give him time. No-one can ever say no to you forever. Not even a head case like me."

Buffy sighed,

"I hope so." she smiled wanly. "But it's hard, you know? Every time I think he and I have finally got things worked out, something happens to upset it ... and that sounds like I'm blaming you, which I'm not. So I'll shut up now." she nodded firmly.

Faith looked around at the group and smiled disbelievingly,

"Somehow, I think this whole screwed-up situation just worked itself out. I really don't know how, but I'm not going to argue about it. Thanks for believing in me. I won't let you down."

Giles cleared his throat,

"Well, actually, this situation is not quite resolved just yet. There is still the matter of, uh, Mrs Summers to consider."

"Oh god." Buffy looked horrified, "Mom."

Faith buried her head in her hands and massaged her temples. Last night she had told Willow she thought she could deal Buffy's mother. Now, after the near disaster with Xander and Riley,

"I doubt my nerves could take it." she and Buffy said in unison, then looked at one another in surprise.

"Holy psychic slayer links, Batman!" Xander laughed, "That was pretty eerie!"

"You're telling me." Faith grimaced.

"So what do we do about your Mom?" Willow said worriedly, "I mean, we have to tell her about Faith being back in the group, right?" she paused as both Buffy and Faith turned to regard her with calculating eyes. Slowly, the redhead swallowed, "We _do_ have to tell her, right?"

"Right" agreed Buffy.

"Absolutely." Faith nodded.

"Just."

"Not."

"Quite."

"Yet."

They looked at one another and grinned.

Giles removed his glasses and pinched his nose,

"Would the two of you mind not doing that?" he said plaintively, "It's bad enough that I shall have two slayers to take care of, let alone to have them doing some kind of vaudeville double act."

"Sorry, Giles." the two slayers chorused, as if on queue, then broke into laughter.

Giles smiled, letting it look a little strained. _It's much better to let them laugh off the earlier incident than to have them dwell on it_.

"So what's the plan?" Willow asked, "I mean, does Faith stay in Oz's cage every night? Because that seems pretty icky."

"Buffy has some fool idea about me staying with her." Faith said. "Is there any more tea?"

"Pot's on the counter." Giles answered absently.

"Buffy?" Willow looked confused, "How are you going to keep your Mom from finding out about Faith if she's staying at your place?"

"I meant my place on campus, Will." Buffy explained, "Since my last roomie bailed on me, I need a new one. Think you're up to adding Faith to the campus directory?"

Willow grinned,

"Does she know you snore?"

Buffy gave her a dirty look.

"Okay, okay. I'll take a look." Willow moved over to the computer and set down to work. "The student records shouldn't be much of a problem, really. UC Sunnydale's hardly the police department, after all."

Faith came back into the room, a cup of tea in one hand.

"I can't believe you're sending me to college, B." she shook her head.

"It's for your own good, Faith." Buffy grinned, "Your dad and I want you to have a good job when you're older. Something secure, with prospects of promotion and a good dental plan."

"I'm in!" Willow called, "Lousy second rate security. Anyone could be hacking into our records."

"Well in this case, Will." Buffy reminded her, "Anyone is us."

Willow brought up a data entry screen,

"So you're using Faith Clements, right?" she said.

Faith nodded.

"Any middle initial?"

"S."

"For?" Willow glanced up.

"Samuel."

"But that's a boy - oh, I get it."

"Will?" Xander looked blank, "Wanna share?"

"Samuel Clements. He said 'rumours of my death are exaggerated'."

"I thought that was the guy that wrote Huckleberry Hound?"

"Huckleberry _Finn_, Xander."

"That too." Xander glanced at Anya and grabbed her hand, "Anyway, I have to go. The workaday week awaits."

A chorus of farewells saw the pair out of the door. As it closed behind them, Xander's voice drifted back to the group at the computer,

"I can't believe you took _her_ side. _She_ ravished _me._"

Giles rinsed out the teapot with warm water as Willow worked on, constructing a college persona for Faith. Classes were chosen, timetables prepared, fees marked as paid. Within an hour, UC Sunnydale had its newest student, and Buffy Summers had a new room-mate.

Riley sat in a chair in his apartment, looking up at the ceiling. _I can't believe I walked out on Buffy_. But no, that wasn't what had happened. He'd walked out on Faith, and her claimed reform.

_At the moment, that's just about the same thing_. He rolled his head to one side, looking out of the window. He couldn't understand why Buffy seemed to need to believe in Faith. Why she felt she had to help the other slayer.

_But perhaps it's simply that. As a slayer, Faith has a connection with her that I can't match_. He frowned at the thought. Buffy was closer to him than anyone else in the world. He had given up everything for her. Sacrificed his career and his friends.

_Not that I want that from her_. He had to remind himself of that. He knew things were different for her than for him. Buffy couldn't stop being the slayer, no matter how much she wished she could. _And there are times I am sure she does_. And her friends hadn't ever been responsible for creating an all-but-immortal cyborg demon. _Though they are responsible for Faith_.

It was an ugly thought, and he would have preferred that it hadn't occurred to him, but now that it had, he was forced to admit it seemed valid. Faith was dangerous, that was definite. He'd seen Buffy in action: he had to assume Faith was similarly powerful. _And unlike Buffy, she's shown herself quite willing to work for the other side_.

When the Initiative had tried to persuade him that Buffy could not be trusted, he had known in his heart that she could. But he couldn't say the same of Faith. _She deliberately set out to hurt us. How can Buffy forgive that?_

He sighed. However crazy it seemed for Buffy to put her trust in Faith's apparent reform, that was exactly what she was doing. If the reform was a sham, then she was in a great deal of danger.

_Walking out of there was a mistake_. He realised that now. He needed to be there, to keep an eye on Faith. The others wouldn't be doing it. Giles and Willow seemed to share Buffy's willingness to accept Faith's return. Xander was obviously suspicious, but he didn't have the equipment or the training to help Buffy if Faith turned on them. In the morning, he would go and make his apologies. To Buffy, at least.

_I need to be there. Someone has to watch her back_.

"Are you sure you want to move back a day earlier, Buffy?" Joyce sounded concerned, "It seems awfully sudden."

"Oh, you know me, Mom." Buffy laughed, "Everything changed at the last minute. Willow and Tara are moving into their place today, too. We thought it might be better to get out of your hair all at once."

"Well, okay." Joyce frowned, "But try to visit a bit more often this year, honey. By the way, this doesn't have anything to do with Faith, does it?"

Buffy paused in what she was doing. _Guilty look. Lose it quickly_. She smiled and waved a hand nervously,

"What do you mean, Mom?"

"Well, it's just that, coming so soon after what you told me about Faith being in town, I wondered if this was something to do with trying to protect me. You know, by going to the campus to draw her attention there."

"Oh. Wow." Buffy shook her head, "You got me, Mom. Nothing gets past you, I guess. Yeah, we figured this would make Faith concentrate on the campus." _And that's not even a lie. Not really, anyway._

"Well you watch out for yourself." Joyce kissed her on the cheek, "and your friends."

"Will do, Mom." Buffy hugged her mother briefly, then ran quickly out of the house, a full bag of belongings bouncing on one shoulder.

It had taken most of the day to move all of their stuff. Thankfully, with three girls moving out all at once, it had proved possible to slip a few extra bits of linen and other supplies into the luggage for Faith. _Which is just as well, since she brought almost nothing with her_.

They drive across to the campus without incident. Faith was already in the room she and Buffy would share, unpacking the previous load of luggage. There had been a brief moment of indecision earlier in the day about what they could do with Faith whilst the rest of them went to get things from the Summers' house, but in the end Buffy had just shrugged. _It wasn't like we had a secure way to lock her up anyway, so why not show a little trust?_

Faith's idea of unpacking, she discovered on arrival, was somewhat haphazard. It was dark before they had the room in some semblance of order, and there were still two unopened cardboard boxes to be gone through the next day.

"At last." Buffy flopped down on her bed, "I'm beat."

"We _should_ patrol." Faith reminded her, standing next to the other bed.

"Nup." Buffy buried her head in her pillow, "Taking the day off for personal time. Gotta get to know my new roomie."

Faith grinned at her,

"This is crazy, B." she shook her head, "How long do you think I can pretend to be a college student?"

"Oh, about as long as I can." Buffy said airily, "And no-one's found _me_ out yet. Just try not to wear out too many of these college boys with your extra-curricular activities."

"College boys are all so immature." Faith joked, sitting cross-legged on her bed. "So give me the heads up, B. Is there anything going on in this town? Because last night seemed dead and you don't seem real worried about patrolling."

Buffy yawned,

"We think Spike may be up to something." she said tiredly, "But we have to work out where he's hiding before we can do anything about it."

"Spike. But he's just a vampire, right? No problem, then. We can stake and dust, and still be back in time to hit the clubs."

Buffy sat up,

"Spike's no normal vampire, Faith." she warned, "Not only has he got away from me a half a dozen times, but he's killed two slayers already."

Faith was silent for a moment, then she reached out and grabbed Buffy's hand,

"Don't sweat it, B. Because he's never had to face two slayers at once, before. And there is no way he can be ready for that."

Buffy squeezed Faith's hand,

"Thanks." she yawned again, "but I need to turn in. Goodnight, Faith." she released the other girl's hand, rolled over, and closed her eyes.

Faith remained sitting, watching Buffy for several minutes. Then she reached over, snapped off the bedside light, and the room was filled with darkness.

"Here." Spike tossed a wallet into Harmony's lap. "Found this on that snack we had earlier. Go buy yourself something nice whilst I get my business dealt with."

Harmony rifled through the wallet with practised ease, sliding out all the cash and credit cards before tossing the rest into the back seat.

"How long are you going to be, Spike?"

"Probably an hour or two, babe." he answered her, "I'll meet you back at the motel, okay? And no adventures, now. Angel and his cronies are in this town, and I don't want to get their attention if I can help it."

"Sure." she replied, not really listening, "Hey, drop me off here. There's a killer dress store on this street, and they stay open late."

Spike slid the car in against the curb and gave her just enough time to get out before speeding off.

"Asshole." she muttered, watching him take the next corner much faster than was safe. Then, with a shrug of dismissal, she headed into the shop. It was everything she remembered it to be, and so much more. The 'so much more' applying in particular to price tags. _Obviously should have grabbed a richer snack_.

"Harmony?" a voice behind her said in surprise, "Is that you?"

She turned and smiled slowly,

"Cordelia." she purred, "How nice to see you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Watching Your Back (Part 3)**

**Previously ...**

Faith has returned to Sunnydale, apparently intent on reconciliation with Buffy and her friends. This came as something of a shock to the Sunnydale crew, who believed Faith to have died in prison. On top of this, they had recently come to suspect that Spike has some secret scheme in motion.

Torn between suspicion of the other Slayer and her reluctance to kill a young woman who resolutely refused to fight back, Buffy has taken the risky step of trusting in Faith's apparent reform, going so far as to share her room at college with the other slayer.

Faith's return has not been met with joy in all quarters, however. Riley Finn suspects her of having more sinister motives than she claims, whilst no-one is quite ready to tell Joyce about Buffy's new room-mate ...

**Chapter Seven**

The offices of Wolfram & Hart were a gleaming tower of glass, cement and steel. The building personified wealth, power and pride. Spike drove straight past it.

He knew that many vampires thought highly of the law firm, but he preferred to do his own recruiting, on the streets. Desks and offices were not his preferred territory, and he would stick to what he knew. Besides, there was something about humans who worked for vampires that made his fangs ache. _It's like having your burger tell you it wants to be mates_.

About a mile further down the road he pulled into a side-street and parked. The buildings here were older and dirtier than the monolith of Wolfram & Hart. To his vampire senses, they smelled of time. He could sense the rot in the walls, the decay of the bricks and mortar and iron that comprised each structure. It was a good smell, familiar. It reminded him of blood.

To the average person, the building he entered looked little different from the others of the neighbourhood. Even inside, where he climbed a rusty iron stairwell to the third floor, it had little to distinguish it.

The bouncer blocked his path as he stepped onto the landing, the floor feeling slightly soft beneath his feet. _Half-demon. Droggan, by the smell of him_.

"Members only." The words were a surly challenge, the bouncer sure in his greater size and weight.

Spike smiled,

"I have an invitation right here, mate." He reached casually inside his coat, then suddenly lashed out with his fist, striking the bouncer in the throat. The half-demon reeled back and collapsed against the wall, knocking away some of the age softened plaster.

"Oops." Spike allowed himself a satisfied smile and walked along the landing to the battered door at the end. The black paint was faded and peeling, contributing further to the run-down atmosphere that pervaded the building.

He pushed the door open and stepped into the smoky room beyond. He smirked, remembering Harmony's disappointment the one time he'd bothered to bring her here. There was no grand surprise at the end of all the suspense, just a gloomy dive which specialised in catering to the sort of 'person' Spike was interested in hiring.

"William!" a thick, tobacco-roughened voice called out to him.

Spike half turned, seeking out the barrel-shaped body that went with that voice.

Paolo Wurth surged across the room, his squat, broad body enveloped in the usual cheap, ill-fitting suit. Spike smiled despite himself. They just didn't make clothes in Paolo's size any more. Not that they ever had.

"Paolo." He thrust out his hand and felt it engulfed in the other vampire's two-fisted grip.

"William! How good to see you! Come, join me!" Paolo gestured expansively at the table from which he had come. The buttons of his suit strained alarmingly at the action, his moving girth putting them under significant stress.

Spike followed Paolo back to the table, his eyes taking in the room as he did so. There would be no threats tonight, it seemed. No familiar faces, no-one looking too curious. Paolo had two girls at his table. Both attractive, in a hard, used-looking way. _Junkies_. There were some things even a vampire couldn't kick the taste for, and Paolo invariably knew where to get them.

"You have any trouble with the bouncer?" Paolo asked, a broad smile on his ugly, pugnacious face.

"Nope." Spike swung into one of the chairs at the table, favouring both of the women with an insincere smile, "_He_ needs a bit of a lie down, though."

Paolo shot him an exasperated look,

"You didn't break him, did you?"

"Crushed his larynx." Spike shrugged, "He'll recover. Might take a few minutes though."

The heavy-set man shook his head,

"Why don't you just use your membership card?" he threw himself into a cushioned but faded armchair, which creaked audibly under his weight, "Far less trouble."

"Left it in my other jacket." Spike lied glibly, lighting a cigarette. "Who are your girlfriends?"

"Who cares?" Paolo chuckled, waving a hand dismissively at the two. They rose and walked away, only one of them bothering to give Spike a hostile stare. _Junkies_. Spike snorted. _Idiots_.

"So it's been what, William? A year? That must be the last time you were here. With that tasty little blonde?"

"'bout that." Spike agreed, "Hear from Dru at all?"

Paolo had the decency to look uncomfortable. _Which he probably is_.

"You know she doesn't like me talking to you about her." he kept his voice pitched low. When Spike didn't answer, he sighed, "She's running with the Jeneth Demons. Took up with one of their leaders about eight months ago."

"At least she's running with a better class of ugly, these days." Spike kept his voice neutral.

"You should let it go." Paolo urged, "Shack up with your little blonde."

Spike smirked,

"Don't worry about me, Paolo old mate." he blew smoke slowly through his nostrils, "I'm with Harm now. I just asked for politeness. Dru bein' your sire an' all."

Paolo grinned weakly. _Fear. Good. He hasn't forgotten_.

"Remember when we used to beat on those Mod wankers in Blackpool?" Spike grinned, "Dru took that one guy straight off his scooter. Christ, must be thirty years ago, now."

Paolo nodded and took a large gulp from the drink in front of him.

"Good times." he acknowledged, "But I'm sure you aren't here to talk about them, William. What can I do for you?"

Spike stubbed out his cigarette and lit another, taking his time before answering.

"Two things, both urgent." he said finally, "First, I need the eyes of a Taladar."

"No problem." Paolo smiled, "I know the locations of a few Taladarm. You just need the one pair?"

"Yeah." Spike didn't like Taladarm demons any more than the other vampire, but getting more would be a needless expense. "The second thing is a little more difficult, but I need it tonight. I need a spy. A good one, capable of moving around by day, amongst humans, whilst staying undetected."

Paolo frowned,

"I might know a guy. Great for what you want, but not much use in a fight."

"Good." Spike answered, "If his target wakes up to him, he's dead anyway. Being a bit of a pansy might encourage him to be careful."

"Hansard is always careful." Paolo answered, finishing his drink, "But he doesn't come cheaply, William. Particularly if you want him to watch the slayer."

"Lucky guess." Spike smirked, knowing full well it was not. _Got to watch that with Paolo. He's a lot sharper than he lets on_.

Paolo shrugged,

"Call it what you will. There is still the matter of price -"

This was a familiar pattern, and Spike leaned back in his chair, relaxing. It would take an hour or two to haggle a price. _The fat bastard is still a black marketeer at heart, even after fifty years as a vampire_. But if anyone could deliver what Spike wanted, it was Paolo Wurth.

Cordelia stepped in through her front door, turning on the lights as she did so, then turned and spread her arms like a game show hostess.

"Ta da!" she smiled proudly, "Mi casa."

Harmony hovered on the front door step, glancing inside. Catching up with the brunette had been fun. They'd window shopped, chatted about guys and clothes, even stopped in at a coffee shop. It was almost like High School again. _Almost like being human_. But the fun was over. For Cordelia, anyway. Coffee just wasn't very _satisfying_ these days.

She put on a concerned look and stood at the front doorway as casually as she could, silently cursing the illogical rules which seemed to bind a vampire's existence.

"Uh, Cor." She said, "Are you sure you're okay with me coming in. I mean, tonight's been fun, but we haven't exactly been friends for a while …"

"Oh, nonsense." Cordelia waved a hand, "Come right in –"

The brunette abruptly slapped a hand to her forehead,

"I am _so_ challenged!" she exclaimed, "Asking to come in is like a major vampire give-away and I just blew it straight off. You're gonna go all fang-y and chase me round the house now, aren't you?"

That had actually been exactly what Harmony was planning, but somehow all the attraction of the idea seemed deflated by the fact that Cordelia was expecting it. _It's more fun to take them by surprise, and she's on her guard now_. Besides which, Spike would be meeting with his repulsive friends for hours. _An hour or two, he says. Right. It was six, last time_. Talking to Cordelia would help pass the time. And there would be plenty of time to kill her, later.

"Geez, Cor. Relax. It's not like we're in Freakydale anymore." She stepped through the doorway, and was momentarily surprised at what felt like a weak resistance to her entry. _It was nothing. Get a grip_. "They, this place is _great_. It must cost you a fortune." That at least was true enough. She had not expected Cordelia to be doing so well for herself. _Maybe after this I'll be able to get back to that dress shop_.

"Thanks." Cordelia smiled, "But it's actually pretty cheap. This guy I know –" she paused, "This guy I knew got it for me at a special rate."

"Oh?" Harmony dropped into the couch and kicked her shoes off, then leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, "A special guy? You two still see one another?"

Cordelia frowned,

"We … well, we never really got it together. Things kept coming up at the wrong moment. Like the time his ex-wife showed up -"

"A _divorcee_? Geez Cor, were you looking for a sugar daddy?"

"No." Cordelia shook her head, "He was only a few years older than me."

"So what happened?" Harmony shifted through the magazines on Cordelia's coffee table. _Cleo. Cosmo. Vogue. Vanity Fair. Ooh, Heath Ledger interview. I'll take this with me_.

"He … left. What about you? Is there anyone hunky in your life?" To Harmony, Cordelia's cheerfulness seemed a little brittle. If she had still been human she probably wouldn't have noticed it, but her vampire senses were sharper, clearer. She could literally smell Cordelia's changing moods. The sorrow when she spoke about this man, the fear when she had thought that Harmony was a vampire. Both were intriguing scents.

"Not really." Harmony waved a hand dismissively, then reconsidered, "Well, there is some salty goodness in the picture, but he's still hung up on his Ex."

"_Men_." Cordelia sighed, "Why can't they ever think with their _brains_?"

"Beats me." Harmony sprawled back on the couch, "Say, you got any Coke?" _Sugar isn't blood, but it will do as a fix for now_.

"Some. Decaf Diet, I think." Cordelia nodded.

Harmony wrinkled her nose,

"Geez Cor, what's the point?"

"It's that or hips that need a wide load warning." Cordelia walked through to her kitchen, then called back over her shoulder, "How does coffee sound?"

"Good, as long as it isn't Decaf as well." Harmony stood and prowled the room quickly whilst Cordelia's attention was distracted. Her track record as a hunter was poor, and Spike liked to remind her of the fact. Every bit of preparation she could do would help, and it never hurt to know where someone might run.

"I bumped into Xander Harris a few weeks ago." She called out suddenly to the brunette. It was a whim, a sudden moment of malice, and for an instant she almost felt guilty about it. Then she shrugged mentally. _It's not like Cordelia will have to live with the pain for very long_.

The mention of her ex-boyfriend caused a momentary reaction in Cordelia, quickly smothered. Harmony sensed it only as a brief shift in the other girl's scent.

"Really?" Cordelia said, too casually.

"Yeah," Harmony edged around a cross that was hanging on the wall near one of the bedrooms. _That's the third. This is not a friendly house_. "He's hooked up with that exchange student. Anya, I think her name was?"

"Oh?" Cordelia's tone was politely disinterested, and Harmony reluctantly abandoned the subject.

"So how is the acting career going? Will your name be up in lights any time soon?"

"Oh, you know how it is." Cordelia called back, "Still looking for the right script. But I'm getting out and meeting people and –" she broke off suddenly.

"Cor?" Harmony moved to the entry of the kitchen, "You okay?"

The brunette was leaning against the counter with both hands, the utensils for drip filter coffee laid out before her. She looked up at Harmony and shrugged, then laughed softly.

"Actually it pretty much hasn't gone anywhere." She admitted, "I did get a couple of roles in plays, but I got his other job and it keeps me pretty busy. To be honest I don't even remember when it was that I last did an audition."

"Job?" Harmony leaned against the wall, "I never thought you'd be a nine to five girl, Cor."

The other girl pulled a face,

"It's not really what you'd call nine to five," she said, "in fact, it ends up being all kinds of hours. But we help a lot of people who don't have anyone else they can turn to."

Harmony struggled to keep the surprise off her face. _Cordelia Chase, charity worker?_

"Help people? What, did you join Red Cross or something?"

Cordelia shook her head as she spooned ground coffee into a filter paper,

"No. Actually I work for a private investigator. Which sounds majorly tacky, I know. But we only take cases where we can help people. Most of them can't even pay us."

Harmony moved to stand beside Cordelia, closing the gap between them.

"You want a hand with the coffee?" she asked, casually. As she spoke, she scanned the bench-top. _No crosses. This might be the best place to do this._

"Sure. Could you grab the cups from the cupboard?" Cordelia gestured vaguely.

"So how does this P.I. of your's stay in business?" Harmony asked as she opened the cupboard and pulled out a pair of plain white mugs. "I mean, if he keeps taking charity cases?"

"There's this guy named David." Cordelia said, watching the coffee drip slowly into the pot, "he's made millions in computers or something. He pays for everything."

"So David's your boss?" Harmony was interested despite yourself, "And he has millions? Is he cute? Have you made a move?"

"Hardly." Cordelia snorted, "David's okay, but he's an A1, pocket-protector nerd. I had my fill of that with Xander Harris. He just puts up the money. We let him hang with us sometimes, because he likes to hear about our cases. But it's Angel who runs the place."

"Angel?" Harmony frowned. The name seemed familiar, but for a moment she couldn't place it.

_# Angel and his cronies are in this town, and I don't want to get their attention. #_

It was Spike's voice in her head, distant and half-remembered. He'd said it in the car, just before dropping her off at the dress shop.

_Uh oh_.

She placed the mugs on the bench, remaining half turned from Cordelia, and let the ridges of her vampire's face slowly form.

"Angel. Interesting name." She kept her tone neutral. "Spike doesn't like him."

"Yeah, well Spike doesn't li-" Cordelia cut off with a choking sound as her mind caught up with her mouth. "Oh god."

"I'm sorry, Cor. I didn't come here to hurt you." Harmony turned, letting the other girl see what she was, but keeping her tone calm, almost apologetic. The words were a lie, but people tended to struggle less if you played repentant. "But I can't have you telling Angel that I was here. It might get back to the slayer, and Spike wouldn't like that."

"Oh, no need to worry. I won't say a word." Cordelia smiled falsely and edged toward the door to the living room. Harmony moved smoothly to cut her off, narrowing the gap between them.

"I'd like to believe you, Cordelia." She smiled, showing her teeth, "but you always were one to gossip. Still, we were friends once. How does eternal life sound to you?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I'd rather be dead." Cordelia edged back toward the bench. Harmony moved with her.

"No problem." Harmony shrugged, "I can do that." She lunged toward the brunette -

- and reeled back as the scalding pot of coffee leapt from the bench and splashed across her face. A yelp; more of surprise than pain; escaped her lips.

"What the -" she glared at Cordelia. _Dammit, coffee stains are the worst. I'll never get this outfit clean again_.

To her surprise, the brunette's smile was back, still a bit shaky, but much more convincing than it had been a few moments before.

"Did I mention I had a ghost?" Cordelia said, as a drawer five feet away from them slid open. A sharpened stake rose slowly into the air. Harmony watched it with steadily widening eyes. "Harmony, this is Dennis. Dennis, this is Harmony."

For a second, it seemed as if a young man were standing there, the floating stake in his hand. Harmony heard Cordelia's gasp of surprise as clearly as her own. Then the image was gone, and the stake began drifting slowly nearer.

"You might want to leave now, _Harm_." Cordelia moved so that the stake was directly between them, "Dennis is _very_ protective."

The blonde vampire snarled, trying to step around the stake, but it swung to block her from approaching Cordelia. The brunette herself was now fumbling in a drawer, trying to find something without looking away from Harmony.

"I just know I have some holy water in here." Cordelia said with mock cheer, hands still rummaging in the drawer.

Harmony ran. Vampire or not, she didn't like demons or ghosts, and being splashed with coffee had been bad enough. Holy water was a far more dangerous proposition.

Wrenching the door open, the plunged outside, terrified that the ghost might hurl the stake at her back. Only one coherent thought was in her mind as she ran. _Spike will be pissed if he ever hears about this_.

Well, he wouldn't hear it from _her_, that was for sure.

The phone rang shrilly in the darkened office.

Angel, who was sitting alone in the gloom, reached out slowly and lifted the receiver. It was late for a client to be calling.

"Angel Invest-"

"Angel!" the voice was raised, urgent.

"Cordelia." He answered calmly, reaching for a pen and paper, "Did you have a vision?"

"I wish." The brunette sounded brittle, upset. "I had a visit from a vampire."

"Who was it?" the words were blurted out before he could stop himself.

"Yes, I'm fine Angel. Thank you _so_ much for asking." Cordelia's tone was heavy with sarcasm.

"I'm sorry." He ran a hand through his hair, "I'm glad to hear you're okay."

"Don't worry. It wasn't your little blonde friend." The sarcasm and agitation were gone, replaced by a kind of tired indulgence.

Despite himself, Angel felt a sense of relief.

"Do you want me to come over?" he asked, "We really need Wesley to do a spell of revoking, but I could wake him -"

"No need." Cordelia interrupted. "Dennis chased her off. Scared the hell out of her, in fact."

"Dennis?" he echoed, "Dennis the ghost?"

"Yeah. It was way brave." Cordelia said conspiratorially. "Though come to think of it, I guess as a dead guy he wouldn't have much to be afraid of. But he sure frightened Harmony. And get this, for a moment there I could actually _see_ him. We both could. He's never done that before."

"Really?" Angel frowned. _Harmony_. The name seemed familiar. "I'm sure Wesley will have an explanation for that. This vampire … it was someone you knew?"

"From high school." Cordelia confirmed, "We used to be friends. Until _Buffy_ came to town and I started dating that loser Harris."

"Did she just turn up on the doorstep?" he asked, picking up the pen and scrawling the vampire's name on it. _A Sunnydale vampire suddenly comes to in LA. Not likely to be a coincidence_.

"No, I bumped into her by accident … in a dress shop." Cordelia paused, "Jesus. I had a latté with a _vampire_."

"Cordelia, please try to remember what happened. Did she say why she was in town?"

"No. But she did say she knew Spike. Actually-" Cordelia paused, "I think she basically said she was _dating_ him. Which is just way weird, if you ask me."

Angel's frown deepened.

"This girl is connected to Spike? Are you _sure_ you don't want me to come by?"

He could feel Cordelia hesitate.

"No." she said slowly, "It should be okay. Spike can't come in just because I said his floozy could, right?"

"No." Angel agreed dryly, "It doesn't work that way."

"Well, no problem then." Cordelia said, with cheerfulness that sounded slightly forced. "But maybe you and Wes could come by tomorrow morning and do that revoking thing? Just to be safe?"

Angel opened his mouth, intending to insist that he and Wesley should do the spell immediately, but as he did so the office door swung slowly inward. _She_ was standing there, her hair gleaming softly in the glow of the streetlights.

"Okay." He said slowly, "As long as you're sure." He nodded to his visitor, who did not speak, but glided slowly to a chair and settled herself into it.

"Yeah … yeah, I'm sure." Cordelia didn't really sound as if she was, but his attention was only half on her now, and he heard only the words, not the tone.

"I'll see you in the morning, then."

"Yeah. G'night, Angel."

"Bye." He put the receiver down slowly, watching the woman in the chair as he did so. _I should call Buffy. From the sound of it, Spike might be here in LA, and that means he's up to something_. The thought of calling the slayer was not entirely welcome. He didn't speak to Buffy very often any more, and the times they had talked were usually uncomfortable. Every conversation was a temptation to tell her of the prophecy that he would day be human again. _And I can't tell her that. She has to live her own life, not wait for mine._

"A bit late for phone calls, isn't it?" his visitor asked, a slightly teasing smile on her lips, "Not another woman, I trust."

He glanced at the clock.

"It was work." It _was_ late; almost midnight. _Too late to call Buffy. Leave it to the morning_. The excuse didn't sound all that convincing, even to himself, but it was a reason to put off a call he didn't want to make.

He stood and moved around the desk to stand in front of her, then held out his hand. She took it and rose to her feet. As she did, they drew close, and he felt the dull need of his body for hers.

Slowly, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. She laughed; softly but huskily; and leaned closer. Their lips met.

And all thoughts of phoning Buffy slipped from his mind. There would be more than enough time in the morning, after _she_ was gone.

The vampire ran.

She pursued, a savage smile stretched across her face. This one seemed old, and cunning. It had begun tracking her as soon as she left the dorms, hanging back far enough that it should have been safe. Any other night, it would have been right. But tonight, the _need_ for a hunt had filled her. Her senses were on fire, and she had somehow known it was there. The hunter had become the prey.

A tombstone loomed before her and she hurdled it without breaking stride, gaining another yard on the fleeing vampire. It glanced back at her, almost tripping as it did, losing more ground. She smiled, anticipating the battle to come.

But no, it was a trick. The creature suddenly turned, opening the gap between them as she struggled to match its change in direction. Her momentum carried her toward a mausoleum, and she thrust off against it with one leg, her boot flaking stonework from the structure as she did so.

She grunted from a mixture of effort and enjoyment, relishing the sense of strength that filled her body. Throwing herself forward again, she closed the gap to her quarry, a stake held white-knuckled in her right hand.

The vampire dodged around another tombstone, but she plunged onward. She leapt, her right boot landing on the top of the stone. It shifted very slightly from the impact, but by then she was already pushing off, hurling herself at her target.

Her shoulder crashed into the vampire's back, and they both fell heavily. The impact jarred the wind from her, but she rolled instinctively, sucking in air as she did so, then flipped to her feet.

The vampire was only a moment slower than her, but that moment meant it had no chance to run again. Instead, it attacked, the pronounced ridges and distortion of its face confirming its advanced age.

She blocked the first blow with her right hand and drove the heel of her left into the side of the vampire's face. It lurched backward, then recovered its balance and tried to circle to its left, where there was more room between the tombstones.

She smiled savagely. Even now, the creature sought escape. But she had no intention of allowing that. Two quick steps barred the vampire's path and backed it toward the more densely clustered headstones, where flight would be impossible.

With a snarl, the creature attacked again, using its size and speed to try and push past her, still seeking an avenue of escape. She snarled back at it, grappling its arm as it tried to push her aside. The collision swung them in a semicircle, and she used the momentum to drive her knee into the creature's back. It grunted in pain, then howled as she dropped the stake, braced her free hand against its shoulder and wrenched its captured arm backward. She felt and heard the vampire's shoulder-joint snap out its socket and allowed herself a smile of satisfaction.

Grabbing the vampire by the back of the neck, she hurled it against a nearby headstone, then smashed a roundhouse kick into the side of its face. It fell, then struggled to its feet.

She reached inside her jacket, grabbed the stake nestled there, and slammed it into the creature's chest. It stood silently for a moment, then collapsed into dust.

She stood silently for a moment, savouring the victory, then raised her head and let her senses reach out across the graveyard. Nothing. It seemed she would have to make do with just the one slaying tonight. It was not enough to sate her hunger, but there would be more to come. And she should return to the room before the other girl realised she was gone.

**Chapter Eight**

Joyce Summers stood at the sink, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. After spending the last eight weeks with three teenage girls in the house, she found suddenly being the sole occupant once more a little hard to get used to. Really, it was too large a house for only one occupant. _Perhaps I should consider getting a lodger while Buffy is at college_. She could let out the spare bedroom, which would leave Buffy's room available for those rare occasions when her daughter decided to visit her during the semester.

The extra money a lodger would bring in would certainly be welcome. The gallery was performing quite well, but maintaining a teenage daughter and two lodgers had been a substantial burden. And of course, expenses would not fall now that the girls were back at college. _Not least because Buffy's idea of cooking is phoning for the pizza herself_.

Joyce sighed. There were times when she desperately wanted a normal, everyday daughter. One who knew more about baking than killing demons, and who could spend her evenings in some part time college job, rather than prowling cemeteries and looking for vampires to slay. On the other hand, she had meant every word she had said to Buffy in the gallery two days before. Every time she thought of the role her daughter played in the world, she felt a sense of pride. She just wished it wasn't always accompanied by a sense of utter terror.

The phone rang suddenly and she started, almost dropping her coffee. Placing the mug carefully on the bench, she walked over to the telephone and picked up the handset.

"Joyce Summers."

"Joyce, it's Angel. Is Buffy there?"

"No. She's moved back into her room at the college." Joyce was surprised. As far as she knew, Angel had not phoned Buffy for several weeks, perhaps months. Then she remembered what Buffy had said at the gallery. "Are you calling about Faith?"

"Faith?" the vampire sounded surprised, "No. Wesley told me about Buffy's decision. I was actually calling about Spike."

_Buffy made a decision about Faith?_ For a moment, Joyce felt hurt that Buffy had not told her as much herself. Aloud, she said only,

"Did you want the number of her dorm room? I could look it up for you."

There was a moment of silence at the other end, and she sensed Angel's reluctance. _Things are still painful between them, I suppose_.

"Or I could stop by at the college on my way to work and give Buffy a message for you." She suggested, "It's on my way." The last wasn't really true, but she wanted to speak to her daughter about Faith. _I knew there was something strange about her sudden decision to move, yesterday_.

"Yes." There was an edge of relief in Angel's tone, "If you could do that, Joyce, I'd appreciate it."

"No problem." She flipped open the notepad next to the phone and picked up the pen beside it. Scribbling quickly to make sure the ball-point was working properly, she said, "OK. What do you need me to pass on?"

Buffy rolled onto her back and then sat up slowly in her bed. To her surprise, she felt a little stiff and sore. _First night in a new bed, I guess_. She also felt tired, but that was far less surprising. She glanced across at the other bed where Faith, still fully-dressed except for her boots, was sprawled on top of the rumpled covers. It had taken every ounce of nerve Buffy possessed to close her eyes the night before, knowing that the other slayer was in the room. She had laid there, every sense straining to keep track of what Faith was doing, for what felt like hours. It was only after the other girl's breathing had settled into the slow, regular pattern of deep sleep that Buffy herself had been able to drift into a disjointed, fitful doze. _And even then I had bad dreams_. It had been a difficult night, and despite her tiredness, she was glad to see morning.

The blonde slayer smiled ruefully. _Given my room-mate, I guess I should be glad I'm _alive_ to see the morning_. But that was unfair. Faith had done nothing to justify such suspicion since her most recent return to Sunnydale. Of course, the things she had done in previous visits still hung between them, and possibly always would.

Buffy frowned thoughtfully, her fingers curling unconsciously into the blankets of her bed.

_She seems different this time_. When she looked into Faith's eyes, she could still see the pain and grief. But there was something else there now, or perhaps it was that something was missing. Whatever the case, the Faith who had emerged from prison was a different girl to the one she had fought before the Ascension. Different even from the girl who had confessed her crimes to the police only a few months before.

In a moment of decision, Buffy swung her legs out of bed, stood up, and leaned over to gently shake the brunette awake.

Faith moaned, half rolled in the bed, then slowly opened her dark eyes. For a moment, as she first looked up at Buffy, the blonde saw naked fear within them. Then the brunette seemed to recover herself, and she stretched sinuously. When she looked at Buffy again, the fear was gone.

But the blonde knew she had not imagined what she saw. The realisation stunned her. _Faith is afraid of me. More afraid than I thought she could be of anything_.

"Morning." She said, not sure how to process what she had learned, "Sleep well?"

"Not really." Faith sat up slowly and raked her fingers through her hair, "Bad dreams. You?"

"The same." Buffy admitted, massaging her shoulder where the muscle felt knotted and sore.

"So what time is it, anyway?" Faith peered past her at the digital alarm clock on the table between the beds, "Seven thirty? Jesus, B. You couldn't let a girl sleep in?"

Buffy smiled and shook her head,

"You're a college student now, Faith. They have an unfortunate habit of scheduling morning classes, too, so get used to it."

"Classes?" a look of horror came across the brunette's face, "You mean you actually want me to go to them?"

"It _is_ an important part of the whole 'college student' concept." Buffy reminded her, "You know; 'student'; as in one-who-studies?"

"Yeah, but …" Faith looked down, "I kinds thought that it was just a cover, y'know? That Red would just work her magic at the end of the term and give me passing grades."

"This is _Willow_ you're talking about," Buffy smiled, "You know how seriously she takes this academic stuff. She'd probably have a coronary at the mere suggestion of faking your results."

"Oh, God." Faith buried her face in her hands, "I'm really not ready for this, B."

"You'll be fine." Buffy assured her, fighting the urge to pat the other girl on the shoulder, "I felt totally overwhelmed for my first couple of weeks here, too."

Faith flopped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling,

"But I'm enrolled in _Business Computing_." She wailed, "And I barely know how to turn the damn things on."

Despite herself, Buffy smirked,

"That'll teach you to pick subjects because you think they'll score you points with Willow." She teased. "But don't worry, I'm sure it's not that bad. And Will can give you pointers."

Faith merely moaned softly. Now Buffy did reach out and gently rest a hand on the other girl's arm,

"At least give classes a try." She asked gently, "It would mean a lot to me, and I think you can do it."

Faith was silent for a moment, then propped herself up on one elbow and looked Buffy in the face. There was a surprised, almost diffident look in her eyes,

"Okay, B." she said finally, "I'll give the classes a shot. But we don't have classes today, so what's with the early wake-up?"

It was Buffy's turn to look away as a sense of reluctance overcame her. _No. No backing down. I have to do this_.

"I wanted to talk about what went wrong between us." She said at last, almost having to drive the words out of her mouth by force of will, "Before the Mayor's Ascension, I mean."

"B," Faith sounded tired, "You know I'm no good at this heart to heart stuff. It took everything I had to ask you for another chance." She looked down and away from Buffy, her hands unconsciously rubbing back and forth on her jeans, "We both know that I screwed up before. Can't we just leave it at that? Do we have to go through every stupid mistake I made all over again?"

"I don't want to talk about your mistakes." Buffy mumbled, "I want to talk about mine."

Faith's head rose, a look of surprise evident on her face. She laughed softly, tentatively,

"Your mistakes? I think you got your wires crossed, B. I was the one who tried to help the wannabe demon, remember?"

"Yeah, but …" Buffy sighed and sat on the edge of Faith's bed. Wordlessly, the brunette slayer slid her legs up, giving the blonde more room, "After Allan Finch died, things between us seemed so out of control. I tried to help you, but you shut me out. Then you tried to make Angel evil again, and I guess from there I gave up trying. And for a long time, I blamed you for what that happened between us afterwards. I was so sure I'd done everything I could to give you a chance. In LA, I didn't want to believe that you could change. But now, you come to me from prison and everything I was so sure about comes crashing down. You were going to _kill yourself_ to help me. To throw yourself off a building." She turned her head to look at the brunette, who had been silent throughout Buffy's explanation. "And I have to face the fact that someone did get through to you. That you _could_ change. And that means that I failed you. I don't want that to happen again. So I need to know what I did wrong."

Faith looked at her silently for a long moment, then reached out and gently touched her hand,

"Jesus, Buffy." she said quietly, for once using the blonde's full name, "You want me to tell you that you screwed up two years ago? No problem. You did make mistakes. At the time, I hated you for not doing more to help me. But you were _eighteen_ years old and I'd just _killed_ someone. How were you supposed to know what to do to make things better? How was anyone?"

"But …" Buffy couldn't look at the other slayer, "_Someone_ must have been able to help you. Angel helped you. But I didn't. I wouldn't."

Faith sighed,

"Look at me." She said quietly. Buffy did so, reluctantly. The brunette smiled and stroked some of Buffy's hair away from her face, "Yes, Angel helped me. But he's a two hundred year-old vampire. He has decades of experience of living with pain. You may be the slayer, but you're also a teenager. You can't be expected to get everything right, all the time. No matter how much you might want to."

Buffy returned the smile half-heartedly,

"When did you become such a wise woman?"

To her surprise, Faith's smile abruptly faded, and the brunette looked down, suddenly pensive. Buffy frowned in confusion,

"What's the matter?"

"I … met someone in prison."

"Met?" Buffy squeaked, "You mean like Willow and Tara 'met'?"

"No." Faith shook her head, "I mean … I liked Squirrel. But not that way. She was just … a good friend to me, I guess. We were cell-mates, and she taught me a lot about dealing with what I did. And about not blaming other people for things going wrong."

"Squirrel?"

Faith shrugged,

"Her real name was Sandra Dawson. But everybody called her Squirrel. She'd been in jail nearly sixteen years. I never thought I'd meet anyone like her inside. What I just said to you was something that she once told me."

"She sounds like she is a really good friend." Buffy said softly.

"She was." Faith said, looking down, "She died about a week ago. Someone stuck her full of bad drugs. I … I found her body. It's strange, B. I can slay vamps and demons and never feel a thing. I can even deal with seeing their victims. But seeing Squirrel … it tore me up. That was when I knew that there was no point in me staying alive if I was in jail. I couldn't even protect my own cell-mate, let alone anybody else. And Angel had told me what happened with you and Adam not long before that. I knew you were going to need help. Help I couldn't give you."

Faith fell silent. Buffy watched her for a moment, then spoke.

"But to kill yourself -"

"You haven't got it yet, have you, B." Faith sighed, "Being the slayer was what gave me a purpose. Without it, I was just another screw-up kid with no future. In jail, I couldn't be the slayer. And meanwhile you were saving the world again. My life had lost its purpose. But I knew that my _death_ could have one."

Buffy swallowed. _God_. The stark clarity of the other girl's reasoning was deeply disturbing.

"Your life does have purpose." She said, quietly. "You're a slayer, Faith. And I'm going need a slayer to watch my back."

Faith smiled, and for a second Buffy could almost see the child the brunette had once been.

"Thanks, B." the words were said quietly, but with conviction, "You won't regret giving me this chance, I promise."

Buffy didn't answer, but as she looked at the other girl, she felt confident for the first time since Faith returned that she had made the right decision.

"So anyway." Faith swung her legs off the bed and stood up, "You got any food in the place?"

"There are some cookies in the cupboard," Buffy offered.

"Hardly the breakfast of champions." Faith remarked dryly, "We should buy some stuff today."

"Stuff?" Buffy asked, "You mean stuff we would then cook ourselves? Will and I basically used to order in, mostly. Cooking is not my strong point."

Faith tugged her rumpled t-shirt down and peered into the cupboards,

"Isn't that kinda expensive?" she asked, "I mean, I guess you and Will got allowances from your Moms or something, but I don't really have much cash myself. Angel said he'd fix me up if I needed it, but I don't want to rely on him y'know?"

Buffy frowned. The monetary problems of their arrangement hadn't occurred to her before Faith raised them. _Way to plan, B_.

"Did you say something?" Faith was twisted around, looking at Buffy over her shoulder.

The blonde started, then shook her head.

"No." _At least, I didn't mean to_. "I hadn't thought about the money side of things. Not too smart of me, I guess."

Faith shrugged,

"No problem, B. If I give you a crash course in cooking we'll be five by five in no time."

"You cook?" Buffy could hear the surprise in her own voice.

"B, you saw the dive I was living in the last time I was here. It wasn't exactly catered, and I never had the cash for much in the way of take-out. Hell, half the time I couldn't afford to use a laundry. So yeah, I cook. Nothing fancy, but I cook."

"Groceries. The excitement of being a vampire-fighting slayer duo just never stops, does it." Buffy rose and walked over to look in her wardrobe, which was filled to bursting with outfits of all kinds, as well as her trusty 'slayer's bag of tricks'. She felt a sudden twinge of guilt. _Faith had about three outfits when she unpacked last night_. _Money really is going to be a problem_.

"Wicked!" Faith exclaimed suddenly from where she had been rummaging through one of the remaining cardboard boxes, "Tea!"

Buffy grinned,

"Giles gave it to me before we left his place yesterday." She said, "But I forgot all about it. Sorry."

"Five by five, B." Faith said, setting up a small electric kettle.

"Where did you pick up a taste for tea, anyway?" Buffy couldn't help but ask.

To her surprise, Faith froze, and the muscles in her back tensed suddenly. The dark-haired girl half turned toward her, paused, and then said quietly,

"You probably don't want an answer to that."

"What?" Buffy frowned, then realised what the other girl meant, "Oh. _Him_."

"Yeah," Faith answered in a subdued voice, "the boss -" she broke off, "the _mayor_ liked a cup first thing each morning. Said it was much healthier than coffee. I drank it at first just to humour him, but then I got to like it."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." It was weird to think of the mayor doing normal, everyday things like drinking tea.

"It's okay, B. Those things happened, and we can't pretend they didn't, right?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right." _However much we might want to_.

Buffy dressed quickly, whilst Faith's attention was diverted with the tea. Oddly, she felt a little uncomfortable changing with the other slayer in the room, a feeling she had never had when sharing with Willow. _It'll pass_.

Faith moved back to her rumpled bed and lounged on it casually, a steaming mug of tea in her hand,

"So what's today's plan? You mentioned something about Spike, right?"

"Yeah." Buffy sat on the edge of her own bed, "Will thinks he's up to something sneaky. Which is almost certainly true. But we don't know what or where. We need to think of some way to find out what he is up to."

Faith opened her mouth to reply, but as she did, there was a knock at the door.

"Expecting someone?" the brunette asked.

"No." Buffy walked toward the door, "But we may as well find out who it is."

Riley managed a smile as the door swung open to reveal Buffy.

"Hey," he said quietly, his eyes straying to the brunette on the bed behind Buffy. _So she went through with it, after all_.

"Hi." Buffy sounded as subdued as he had, "you want to come in?"

"Yeah, thanks." He said nervously, half ducking his head as he stepped past her.

Faith stood slowly, and put a steaming mug down on the table next to the bed.

"I should split and leave you guys to talk," she said, wiping her hands on her jeans in a nervous gesture, "give you some privacy."

"It's okay, Faith." Buffy's words were addressed to the other slayer, but her eyes were on him. It was obviously a gesture of support for the other girl, and she was equally obviously gauging his reaction.

"It's not a problem." Faith grabbed her jacket from the back of a chair, "I can just wait in the hall."

"Actually Faith, I'd like you to stay." He said the words quietly, meeting Buffy's stare with a mild expression, "What I have to say affects you as well as Buffy."

Both slayers looked surprised by his words. Buffy closed the door slowly and leaned against it, whilst Faith returned to the bed and laid her jacket on her lap, then picked up the mug she had been drinking from when he arrived. The look on her face as she watched him was guarded. He resisted the urge to look at Buffy's face, trusting that she would be willing to hear him out.

"I'm sorry about yesterday." He began, moving to sit at one end of Buffy's bed. After a moment's hesitation, the blonde slayer moved over to join him, though she did not take his hand, something she normally would have done without thinking. "I over-reacted. The scene at Giles' was ugly enough without me storming out, and I want to apologise."

Now Buffy did put her hand in his. He watched Faith see this, and for a moment there was something in her eyes that surprised him. _Jealousy? Don't be crazy_. Mentally, he shook his head. _It's no use trying to read someone like Faith_. _Who knows how she thinks?_

"I'm not going to pretend that I'm happy to have you here, Faith." He said to the brunette, "You used me last time you were here. Worse, you used me to hurt Buffy. But if she can give you another chance, then I guess I should too."

He paused, then turned his head and directed his next words to Buffy, squeezing her hand gently as he did so,

"I don't want to risk what we have together. If you're willing to let Faith stay, then I'll learn to work with her. You're too important for me not to." He drew in a breath and gave her a half smile, "So I hope you can forgive me for what I did yesterday."

"Oh, Riley." Buffy breathed, then leaned over to hug him, "Thank you."

He put his arm around her and hugged her tightly. _I'll always be there to protect you, Buffy_.

Faith had turned her face away when they hugged, apparently ill at ease with the open display of affection. Now he spoke to her again, drawing her eyes back to him. There was no warmth in them, just as he felt none for her, but whatever he had caught a glimpse of before was also gone.

"What do you say, Faith?" he asked, keeping his tone mild despite his distrust. "Do you think we can work together?"

For a long moment, Faith did not answer, and he felt Buffy's nails dig into his palm.

"Sure." She shrugged at last, as if indifferent, "Any friend of B's, y'know?"

"Good." He said, without meaning it. _At least now I'll be able to keep an eye on you_.

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence after he spoke, and he was reminded of the early days of his relationship with Buffy, when neither of them had been able to say what they felt. He had thought those days were over, but Faith's presence seemed to have opened a distance between them again.

"We were going to do some shopping and then set up a meeting at Giles'." Buffy said at last, "Did you want to come with?"

"What?" he had been lost in his own thoughts, and only half-heard her words, "Oh. No, I can't. I have to prep some classes with Professor Verricker this morning. But I should be able to get to Giles'. What time is the meeting?"

Buffy glanced at Faith, who shrugged indifferently.

"Two?" the blonde suggested, "After lunch?"

He nodded,

"I should be finished with Professor Verricker by noon, so getting to Giles' place for two won't be a problem. You're going to call the others?"

"Xander and Will. They'll tell their Ess-Ohs."

He looked blank, and Buffy grinned,

"Significant Others."

"Right." He shook his head, "Well, I need to be at Professor Verricker's office by eight thirty, so I should get a move on. I'll see you at two."

"Great." Buffy smiled and accompanied him to the door. "See you this afternoon."

He leaned down slightly and they kissed slowly, her small frame seeming delicate in his arms. As he straightened, he glanced over at Faith to see her reaction, but her face was turned toward the window, away from them.

"Bye." He whispered.

"Bye." Buffy gave him one last quick kiss, "And thank you, Riley. For understanding."

"Anything for you." He put his hand on the door handle and took one last look at the black-clad brunette. _Anything. I'll be watching you, Faith_.

Spike lurched out of the car and stood, swaying slightly, in the cave where he kept it parked.

"I feel great." He announced, clumsily lighting a cigarette.

"That's because you're drunk." Harmony, who had rather more slowly emerged from the car, favoured him with a sour look, "And you almost got us killed twice on the way home."

"Fun, wasn't it?" Spike drew a lungful of smoke and blew it toward the blonde vampire. "And I had to beat the sun home, didn't I, pet?" _Silly cow_.

If anything, Harmony's look grew even frostier,

"That wouldn't have been an issue if you hadn't spent the whole night on one of your binges with that toad of a friend of yours."

"Hey!" Spike smirked, then felt himself sway and leaned against the car for support, "Paolo is a bloody good mate of mine."

"Whatever." Harmony sniffed, drawing out the first syllable.

Slowly, the back door of the car opened and the man Paolo had introduced as 'Hansard' emerged. He was of average height, with a slender build and thinning hair. His age was indeterminate; somewhere between thirty and sixty; and he wore an air of ordinariness like a grey cloak. It was difficult to look at him. It was not that it was painful, or even distressing. But the eye kept wandering off to more interesting things, and before you knew it, you'd forgotten he was there.

"That's a damn fine trick you got there, mate." Spike waggled his cigarette at the man, "I can see you'll prove to be a bloody good investment."

Hansard smiled thinly, but did not speak. Harmony frowned,

"What it is, is creepy." She muttered, "The guy's probably a pervert."

"I assure you, child, that I am nothing of the sort." Hansard's tone was mild, but Harmony still took a couple of quick steps away from him. Spike could see why. There was something about the man's voice. He sounded _dead_, in a way that no creature Spike had ever met had sounded.

"So you're sure you can handle the slayer, mate?" Spike realised his cigarette was exhausted and, cursing, lit a new one. "She's got a whole bagful of tricks, this one."

"Quite sure." Hansard turned his head to face the male vampire, "She has never met anyone like me, before. My people … do not mix with normals very often."

"I can see why, creepozoid."

"_Harm_." Spike sighed, "play nice, pet."

Harmony gave them both a dirty look,

"I'm going to go and see if there's any food." She announced in a surly voice, and began to walk toward the tunnel at the back of the cave.

"You should have picked up a snack in town, ducks." Spike grinned mirthlessly, "There were plenty available."

Harmony stopped suddenly and turned to look at him, then just as suddenly; and without saying a word; turned and stalked off again.

"I wonder what got up her backside." Spike took a drag of his cigarette and leaned inside the car for the last of the whisky.

"You taunt her unnecessarily." Hansard observed. Despite himself, Spike started. Unobserved, the man had moved to stand beside him. Hansard's thin smile returned at Spike's discomfort, "You see." He said quietly, "The slayer will be as oblivious to me as you."

"I'm beginning to believe it." Spike admitted, "But those slayer powers of hers can be damn annoying. She's got an instinct for demons like you wouldn't believe."

"That will not help her." Hansard assured Spike in his quiet, dead voice, "I am not a demon."

Spike blew smoke lazily and took a swig of the whisky,

"I don't care if you're poached haddock, mate." He paused to belch, "So long as you keep her under tabs for me."

"I shall begin immediately." Hansard's reply came from the mouth of the cave, and Spike span to face in that direction. The nondescript man was already walking into the sunshine, a good twenty feet from where Spike had been sure he was standing.

"Eerie bastard." He muttered, with grudging respect. _But money well spent. Paolo still delivers the goods_.

Draining the last of the whisky, he tossed the bottle into the back seat and slammed the door shut. He really was feeling good, better than he had in months. _Even better than when I realised that damn chip wasn't working anymore_. It was the thrill of the hunt, back at last. He would make them all dance to his tune. The slayer and her fan club. Harmony. Every vampire in Sunnydale. But more than any of them, he would reclaim the only thing that mattered.

He smiled cruelly as he walked toward the tunnel from the cave, feeling the weight of the Taladar's eyes in his trench-coat pocket. _It's almost time to begin_.

Buffy left the door half ajar as she turned to look at Faith. To her surprise, the answering look from the other slayer was subdued and thoughtful.

"What's the matter?" she asked, feeling a twinge of annoyance. _Riley comes here to offer an olive branch and she's still not happy?_

Faith opened her mouth to answer, but as she did so they both caught the faint sound of Riley's voice from some distance down the hall.

"Hi, Mrs Summers."

"Good morning, Riley. Is Buffy in?"

"Yes. They both are."

The subdued look on Faith's face changed so suddenly to utter horror that it would have been comical if Buffy wasn't sure that her own expression was much the same.

The brunette took two quick steps to the window,

"I should go." She offered, hand on the latch.

Buffy shook her head,

"No point." _What's Mom doing here?_

"Buffy?" They could both hear Joyce's footsteps near the door. Faith looked ready to go out the window regardless of what Buffy said. Not knowing how else to stop her, the blonde quickly moved over and grabbed her hand.

"We have to do this eventually, Faith." She said quietly, but with as much conviction as she could muster.

"We couldn't wait for a better time?" Faith tried half-heartedly to free her hand, but Buffy held on doggedly.

"Will there ever be one?" It was the critical question, and they both knew the answer. Faith's shoulders slumped and she swallowed.

"Guess not." She mumbled, sinking onto her bed, eyes focussed on the ground.

Abruptly realising she still held the other girl's hand, Buffy released it and moved toward the door.

"Coming, Mom." She almost blushed at the quiver in her voice. _Demons and vampires are no problem. But hit me with a soon-to-be-wigginned Mom and I'm a mess_.

At the last moment, she lost the courage to swing the door open and instead stepped up to peer through the opening, her fingers resting lightly on the handle.

"Hi, honey." Her mother smiled, then dropped her voice conspiratorially, "Riley said something about your room-mate being here, and I need to give you a message from Angel. Is there somewhere private we can go?"

_A message from Angel? Why didn't he call me himself?_

The temptation to agree to her mother's suggestion was very strong. It would avoid so many complications. Unsure, Buffy twisted her head to look at Faith. The other slayer had bounced to her feet and was vigorously gesturing for the blonde to leave, a look of relief on her face. Buffy frowned and bit her lip. _I don't want to lie to Mom. The longer we leave this, the worse it gets_.

Faith must have seen something in her expression, because the brunette suddenly began waving her hands across her body, silently mouthing the word "No" repeatedly. It was the most vocal display of silence that Buffy had ever witnessed.

"Buffy?" her mother said from behind her, in a slightly worried tone.

"Just a sec, Mom." Buffy kept her eyes on Faith and put on her best beseeching look, mouthing the word "Please", just once.

For a second, she thought Faith would continue to argue, but a look of resignation abruptly came over the other slayer's face, and she shrugged, then crossed her arms protectively across herself, her gaze wavering between Buffy and the floor. The blonde had only seen Faith look so vulnerable once before; on that painful night at Angel's.

Giving Faith the most reassuring smile she could muster, and a silent "Thank You.", Buffy turned back to face her mother.

"Actually Mom, my room-mate already knows about Angel. So … " Buffy stopped and swallowed, "… so you should just come in. But try not to freak out, okay?"

Joyce looked confused as Buffy slowly began to open the door.

"What's the matter, honey? Why would I -" she stopped with a soft, strangled sound from deep in her throat. For a moment, she seemed to be struggling to speak at all, before finally forcing out one incredulous word, "_Faith?_"

"Hi, Mrs S." Faith mumbled, eyes fixed on the floor, her posture hunched and defensive.

Joyce turned to Buffy, her expression one of frozen shock,

"What … how … " seemingly unable to articulate what she was feeling, Joyce lapsed into silence.

Gently, Buffy took her mother by the arm,

"It's okay, Mom." She said quietly, "Really. Come inside and we'll explain. Please?"

"Does -" Joyce paused, then began again, in a slightly less shaken voice, "does Mr Giles know that Faith is here?"

Buffy blushed deeply, fighting the urge to stare at the floor in the same way as Faith was doing,

"Yeah." She admitted quietly, "We told him last night. We were going to tell you, but -"

Joyce turned and ran.

"_Mom?_" Buffy lunged into the hallway and called after her mother, stunned and confused. _Oh God. I knew she would be upset, but nothing like this_.

"Christ." Faith was at the doorway, her expression as stunned as Buffy's own.

"Do you think I should go after her?" Buffy asked, torn by indecision.

"You're asking _me_?" Faith smiled without humour, then sighed. "Look, B. Maybe this whole deal was a bad idea. I mean, Riley, Xander and your mom have made it pretty clear I'm not welcome. And Red's only putting up with it because you want her to. I could go back to Angel's. He can use the help as much as you, and I don't want to wreck your life."

Gently, Buffy laid a hand on Faith's arm,

"If you'd said that last night, I'd probably have agreed with you." She admitted, "But after our conversation this morning, I want you to stay here. You were willing to give up everything for me, and I … I guess I need to show you that I'm willing to risk just as much as that. Mom will calm down after a while. When she does, I'll try to talk to her again."

Faith's expression was half hope, half doubt,

"How can you be so good to me, B?" she said, in a voice so quiet it was little more than a breath.

The blonde slayer gently guided the brunette back into her room. _No. Our room, not mine_.

"Someone has to be." She meant it as a flippant remark, to lighten the mood, but it didn't come out sounding that way, and Buffy paused, then spoke again, "Besides, would things be any less difficult in LA?"

"Maybe." Faith walked over to the window and stared out of it. _She does that a lot, since she came back_. "Cordelia wouldn't be too happy to see me, but Wesley and Angel have done more to help me than I ever deserved."

Buffy frowned slightly,

"I have to ask you about that, Faith." She said slowly, not wanting to upset the other girl, "Wesley, I mean. He seems to really trust in you. How did that happen? I mean … after what you did…" her voice trailed off as she inwardly berated herself. _Great going. Could you have brought up a worse subject?_

She expected the other slayer to close up after her clumsy question. But to her surprise, Faith's expression became saddened, rather than defensive.

"I've been asking myself the same question about you, B." the brunette confessed, her voice not quite steady, "I did worse to you than I ever did to Wesley. How can _you_ trust me?"

For a moment, Buffy was speechless. It was a question she had been asking herself ever since she learned that Faith was back in Sunnydale. She hadn't been able to answer herself, but now she found the answer for Faith.

"Because I want to." She said quietly. "When I heard you had died in prison I was seriously wigged. I didn't want that night at Angel's to be the last thing between us. I felt like we'd both been robbed of something." She sighed, "I felt like I'd let things get out of control."

Faith looked down,

"And you can't stand that, can you?" her voice was soft, but they both heard the echo of that night on the roof at Angel's.

"The fact is, I haven't been in control since the day I met you."

"Yes. You have." Faith turned, actually looking at her for the first time in the conversation.

Buffy paused. _I'm not even sure we're having the same conversation any more_. There was something about the other girl's words that unnerved her a little, but she couldn't tell what it was.

"So … Wesley?" the change of subject sounded weak to her, but she didn't know what else to say.

"Yeah," Faith rubbed her hair back slowly, "for the first two months I was in jail, Angel came to see me every week. God knows how he did it, given that visiting hours weren't exactly scheduled to be vampire-friendly. But he came. And it meant a lot to me. I played it down, of course. Like I didn't care." She shrugged, "But I didn't fool him. I never could. And he kept coming back."

Buffy slowly sat down on her bed. After a moment, Faith sat opposite her, continuing her tale.

"Then one day at lunch I looked up from my plate and right into the eyes of a guard. And I saw the demon inside her." Faith's voice shook slightly, "It scared the hell out of me, B. I was the only could see what she was, but there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. I mean, I could have killed her. But I never would have got outside of a jail again. And you don't want to know what they do to cons who kill guards."

Buffy nodded slowly. She could sense the other slayer's frustration even now, months after the events being described.

"What happened?"

"I did the only thing I could." Faith stared at her hands, "I kept my head down and waited for Angel. He was due to come two days later. I had to watch for _two days_ whilst this demon singled out the weak or stupid and … toyed with them." she hunched over slightly, rocking gently back and forward as she continued, "And then Angel _didn't come_. I almost snapped. If Squirrel hadn't been there, I would have gone after the demon myself, and screw what happened to me."

"She knew about the demon?"

Faith shook her head,

"She just knew I had a problem with the guard. She kept me away from her for three days, all the while trying to find out what was wrong. And of course I couldn't tell her." The brunette sighed, "In the end, I phoned Angel's office. I don't know what the hell I thought I was doing. Wesley answered. I should have expected it wouldn't be Angel. I froze. I couldn't even say a word. I just kept listening to him say 'Hello?' over and over into the phone."

Buffy shivered slightly. The pain in the other girl's voice was still raw and new.

"Maybe I shouldn't have asked you about this." She suggested gently.

Faith grimaced,

"Doesn't work like that, B." she mumbled, "I tried running away from what I did before. If I can't do better than that this time, then you really should have killed me back in the motel room, because I'll just screw things up again."

"No. You won't." Buffy shook her head, "But this is hurting you –"

"Yeah. But that's the point." Faith cut in, "It's self-inflicted, B. The pain I caused to others is coming back on me."

"Who told you that?" Buffy knew the answer even as she asked the question. She could almost hear his voice in Faith's as she said the words.

"You know who. And you know he's right –"

"No, he isn't." Buffy shook her head. "You aren't him. He can't heal. That's the whole point of his curse. But people can. _You_ can. You have to, or you'll break."

"I'm strong enough, B."

"No one is that strong." Buffy leaned forward suddenly and brought her face close to Faith's, "I've run from my problems before, and I learned that it doesn't give you any answers. But neither does punishing yourself. I've learned that, too."

Faith did not look up,

"But it's all I know how to do, B." she said, finally, "Run, or fight. It's all I've done my whole life."

"That's okay. I'm just going to show you a new way to fight."

**Chapter Nine**

Dressed only in an over-sized shirt that stretched to her knees, Willow knuckled sleep from her eyes with one hand while answering the shrilling telephone with the other.

"Hello?" she mumbled sleepily.

"Hey Will, it's me." Buffy sounded anxious, "Did I wake you?"

"Not really." Willow said, not lying exactly. "Tara and I were just up late last night doing spell stuff. Still a bit bleary this morning. What's up?"

"My mom found out about Faith."

"Oh." Willow fumbled for the chair next to the phone and sat down heavily, "How did she take it?"

"Not well. She just took off on me."

"She _what_?"

"Yeah." Buffy sounded as disbelieving as Willow herself felt, "I don't know where she's gone, but I'm going to give her some time to cool down and then go home to talk to her."

"You want me to come over?"

"What? No." Buffy paused, "Before mom realised Faith was here, she mentioned something about a message from Angel. I guess he didn't want to talk to me himself –"

"You want me to be research gal?"

"Yeah, thanks." Willow could hear the relief in Buffy's voice. "Could you call Cordelia and find out what Angel wanted to tell me, then see what you can track down that might be related to Spike?"

"Sure." Willow answered. As she did, the bedroom door opened and Tara stuck her head out. Willow gave her a wave, then continued, "We meeting at Giles' today?"

"Yeah. Two o'clock."

"Okay. Tara and I will be there." Willow beckoned to Tara and the blonde witch emerged from the bedroom. She was wearing Willow's flannel dressing gown. "How are things with Faith?"

"They're good." The confidence of Buffy's reply surprised the redhead. "Except for mom, I mean."

"Okay." Willow leaned forward slightly as Tara started to gently caress the side of her neck, "I hope you work things out with your mom. And we'll see you at two, okay?"

"Yeah. See you then."

"Bye." Willow slowly put the handset down.

"Buffy?" asked Tara quietly.

"Uh huh." The redhead stood and slid her arms around her blonde lover's waist. "I have to call Cordelia and find out what Angel wanted, then we need to research."

"Won't you need a free h-hand for that?" Tara asked softly, her breath hitching as Willow's lips moved closer to her own.

"I guess." Willow kissed her lightly, "But I wanted to say good morning, first."

Slowly, Tara lifted her hand and stroked the back of it across Willow's cheek. There was a distant look in her eyes. Almost, but not quite, like sadness.

"What's the matter?" Willow asked, worriedly.

"I love you."

"I know." Willow hugged Tara tighter, "I love you, too."

The blonde witch smiled gently,

"I just wanted to tell you. Now, you'd better make that phone call." She gently slid out of Willow's arms and walked away, into the kitchen.

The redhead watched her go, totally oblivious to the broad smile on her own face.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me, Rupert!"

Surprised, Giles stepped back from his front door. Joyce Summers stormed past him and into the apartment, a furious expression on her face.

_Oh dear_. He closed the door slowly.

"I assume you have spoken to Buffy?" he said quietly, without turning around.

"I went to see her." Joyce's voice shook with suppressed anger, "She told me _Faith_ was staying with her. How could you let my daughter take a risk like that? How could you not tell me?"

"Joyce," he turned around slowly, speaking quietly and gently, "Buffy –"

The phone rang, interrupting him. He looked at it for a moment, not sure if he should answer. Whilst he did, Joyce snatched up the receiver,

"Call back later." She snapped, and slammed the handset back down.

Giles rubbed the side of his neck slowly as Joyce glared at him. For several moments, neither of them spoke. As the silence stretched out, the anger in Joyce's expression began to crumble into worry and stress.

"How could you not tell me?" she asked again, her voice now plaintive, rather than furious.

"Buffy wanted to tell you herself." He walked over to her and gently laid a hand on her arm, "She asked me not to say anything until she could explain things to you."

"Things didn't quite go to plan, then." Joyce replied with a slight hint of bitterness, "For once she wasn't able to keep me in the dark."

"She only does that because she loves you." Giles guided Joyce to the couch.

"_What_?"

"Joyce, every night of her life, Buffy is in danger. It's an unavoidable part of being the slayer. She tries to protect you from that as much as she can."

"She's my daughter. _I'm_ supposed to protect _her_."

"The rules change when your daughter is the slayer." Giles sat beside Joyce on the couch, holding her hands between his. "I … care for Buffy a great deal. It … sending her out to fight demons and vampires … it's hard. Every time, I wonder if she'll meet something she can't defeat."

"Then how can you do it?" Joyce whispered, "How can you let her risk her life like that? And don't tell me it's because she's the 'chosen one'. That's not a good enough reason."

"I do it because fear isn't the only thing I feel. There's also pride. Pride and admiration." He paused, collecting his thoughts, "Buffy doesn't fight vampires because she is the 'chosen one'. She fights vampires because she knows that they need to be fought. Knowing Buffy and her friends is the one worthwhile thing that being a Watcher has given me."

Joyce looked at him silently for a long moment, and then said quietly,

"You love her, don't you?"

"Like she was my own." He admitted, nodding slowly.

Joyce kissed him then, gently but firmly, her lips warm where they touched his own.

"Oh my." He said weakly, when their lips parted. "That was unexpected."

Joyce smiled slightly,

"I've been waiting for weeks for it to happen. It seemed to be time to take matters into my own hands."

"Yes. Well." Giles coughed lightly, "I wanted to sure it wasn't too soon. Our last … courtship … was rather … precipitous."

Joyce's smile broadened as a blush spread across her cheeks. Then each slowly faded as she became more serious,

"What about Faith, Rupert?" she asked, "I'm still upset that Buffy didn't tell me about her decision, but more importantly, is she in any danger? Can we trust Faith?"

"Yes, I think we can." Giles said slowly, "When Buffy first told me Faith was back in Sunnydale, I admit I assumed the worst. But having seen her last night … I believe she is truly sorry for what occurred before. She wouldn't put herself through all this pain if she wasn't."

"Pain?" Joyce's eyes widened slightly, "What happened?"

"It was … very emotional." Giles said, uncomfortably. "Faith and Buffy were under a lot of pressure. And suspicion, in Faith's case. Both of them were very … distraught … by the end. It seemed easier if they waited a few days to speak to you."

"I just wish she had _told_ me." Joyce admitted, "I would have supported her."

Giles looked down at their clasped hands,

"Perhaps there are things that Buffy would wish _you_ had told her." He suggested quietly.

For a moment, Joyce looked confused, and then slowly comprehension dawned,

"You mean us."

"Yes." Giles agreed, although it had not been a question. "Buffy asked me recently if I was hiding anything from her. I … evaded … the question. But perhaps, if you want her to tell you more about her life, you should share more of yours."

He fell silent, hoping his words had not sounded too judgemental.

Joyce did not answer at first, but then she slowly nodded,

"You're right." She admitted, "It is a bit hypocritical of me, isn't it?"

Giles did not reply. There was no right answer to a question like that.

"Are you happy here?" Joyce asked suddenly.

"Pardon?" he blinked in surprise, wondering what had prompted the question.

"It's just…" Joyce trailed off, then spoke again, "You're alone in this apartment. I'm alone in my house. And I have a spare room. I was thinking of letting it out." She looked at him with a calm expression, but he could feel the tension in her hands.

"And you'd like me to move in?" he asked slowly, unsure of what was being suggested.

"I could use the help with expenses." Joyce explained, "And it would be nice not to sneak around like we have been. I'm not sixteen anymore, and it feels more tiresome than exciting. Besides, this way I would probably see more of Buffy."

Giles smiled slightly,

"How do you think she would react to it?" he asked softly, "Even if I am only renting the spare room, Buffy knows what happened between us before."

A smile spread over Joyce's face, and for a moment Giles was sure he saw a glint of mischief in her eyes,

"My daughter seems to feel free to choose her own room mates." She said lightly, "I don't see how she could object to me exercising the same right."

Giles felt an answering smile tug at his own lips.

"My lease has another month to run." He said, "But if the offer were still open then, I would be glad to accept it."

"It will still be open." Joyce promised, leaning slightly toward him. He released her hands and they drew together, sinking into a long, slow kiss.

Five minutes passed in near silence, as the kiss deepened, ended, and began again. Shoes were kicked off, forgotten as Joyce lay back across the couch, Giles kissing her throat, their fingers entwined.

And then the phone rang again.

Faith watched as Buffy stared in confusion at the phone handset, then slowly put it down.

"What's up, B?" she asked, lacing up her boots, "Giles not in?"

"Mom answered." Buffy said softly, a confused expression on her face. "She said 'phone back later' and hung up. What was she doing at Giles'?"

Faith shrugged,

"Didn't you say something about her and the G-man getting into lip-lock one time? Maybe she was looking for a repeat performance."

"Eww, Faith." Buffy pulled a face. "Once was bad enough."

"Can you think of a better explanation?" Faith grinned. "I mean, Giles is pretty cute, y'know. And your Mom's a woman with needs, same as the rest of us."

Buffy's only response was an inarticulate mewl of horror.

"Chill, B. I was just messin' with your head." Faith fibbed, then spat on her fingers and rubbed the toe of her left boot. _Jesus, talk about repressed. How'd she ever cope with Red switching teams?_

Buffy stood watching the brunette for a few moments, then suddenly dropped down onto her bed.

"No you weren't. Were you?" she said quietly. "Willow told me that, when you were … in my body … you could tell that she and Tara were –"

"Gay?"

"I was going to say 'together'."

Faith shrugged,

"It was obvious from the way blondie looked at Red. I haven't seen your mom and Giles together, so I could be way off base, but the thing between them after they ate that candy had to come from somewhere, right?"

"Oh my god." Buffy raised a hand to her lips, "Bagels."

"That mean something to you, B? Because I'm flyin' blind."

"Giles … a couple of days ago he had … bagels … and then Mom did, too. And … _ohmygod_ I ate my Mom and Giles' _date_ food!" Buffy wailed, her voice rising.

_Cool. Way to go, G-man_. Faith spread her hands,

"What's the big, B?" she asked, "Can you think of a better guy for your Mom to hook up with?"

Buffy didn't answer, her gaze on the floor.

"Oh. I get it. Your dad."

"Yeah." The blonde's voice sounded very small. "If Mom is with Giles, it means my folks are never going to get back together."

"I don't want to sound harsh, B." Faith said gently, "But if your folks were going to get together again, it would have happened by now. Whatever was between them is over now. Not everyone can be like you and Angel."

Buffy's head snapped up.

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, B." Faith leaned forward, "You gotta know he still wants you."

"But I'm with Riley now." Buffy protested.

"Rebound guy?" Faith snorted. "Come on, B. I mean, he's obviously stuck on you, but could you have chosen anyone more obviously the anti-Angel?"

"What's that got to do with it?" Buffy asked defensively, "I just wanted to find a nice, normal guy for a change."

"Nice and normal? B, the guy is the _Stepford wife_ of boyfriends." Seeing Buffy's blank look, Faith sighed, "We'll rent the video sometime. And don't tell me you don't still love Angel."

"It doesn't matter, Faith. Angel left me, not the other way around. Besides, a slayer and a vampire? It could never work out."

"Yeah, but –" Faith broke off in realisation. _Oh Jesus, he never told her_.

"But what?" Buffy demanded, "How is it ever going to work, Faith?"

"I guess it wouldn't." Faith shrugged, not looking at the blonde. In a sad kind of way, it made sense. Angel would want Buffy to be able to go on with her life. To be with other people without feeling like she was betraying him. So naturally he would never tell her about the prophecy. _God, sometimes he's so self-sacrificing I just want to stake him_.

For a moment, she thought Buffy had accepted her response. Then the blonde slayer said,

"There's something you're not telling me, isn't there?"

_I could try to bluff it out_. Faith sneaked a glance at Buffy's face, trying to judge the blonde's mood. _Or maybe not_.

"Yeah." She admitted. "And you probably shouldn't ask. If Angel thought you should know –"

"He would tell me himself?" Buffy folded her arms, "God, I hate it when he does that."

Faith rubbed her hands on her thighs,

"How did you know I knew something?" _B never used to be able to read me like that_.

"I…" Buffy paused. "I don't know. I just did. But have you noticed how that's been happening since you came back? Like last night, at Giles' place?"

"Yeah." Faith admitted. _And it makes me damn uncomfortable_.

"Do you think it has something to do with when we swapped bodies?"

"Maybe." Faith replied, "But I'm not much on the magical theory, B. That's more Red and Giles' turf. To be honest, the whole thing has me seriously wigged."

There was a moment of silence. Then Buffy cleared her throat,

"Did you, uh, just say 'wigged'?"

"I hope not." Faith buried her face in her hands. "But I think you'd better call Giles again."

The females named Faith and Buffy sat side by side on the couch, facing an older couple. The woman was seated in a chair, whilst the man named Giles stood just to her left. Hansard stood silently in a secluded corner, watching. He had simply followed the two girls inside when they came to this apartment. As he had promised the vampire 'Spike', none of the four displayed any inkling of his presence.

_Humans_. He had sensed magical wards on the building when he entered, but discounted them without a second thought. They would not detect one of his kind. Now, he turned his attention to the conversation between the four. The male was speaking,

"-fy, you said that you and Faith had some things you wished to discuss with your mother and I?"

"Yeah," said the blonde quietly, looking into the glass of juice she was holding.

"B." the brunette interrupted gently, "Can I?"

Buffy glanced at the other girl in surprise, then shook her head.

"No." She said, a small but grateful smile on her lips. "But thanks."

The brunette nodded in acceptance, then rubbed her hands on her thighs in what was fast becoming a familiar gesture of nervousness. Hansard catalogued this fact in his mind for passing on to Spike.

"Mom …" the blonde said diffidently, "Faith and I … we're sorry we didn't tell you what was going on. _I'm_ sorry. We were going to tell you, but things got pretty crazy last night –"

"It's okay, Buffy." The woman who was evidently her mother broke in, "Rupert explained to me what happened last night. I do wish you had told me, but I understand why you didn't. And I have to admit that you aren't the only one who has been keeping secrets."

"You mean about you and Giles being an item?" Buffy smiled slightly at the older couple's startled expressions, "Oh I've known about that for positively minutes."

"How?" Giles asked in a slightly strangled voice. Hansard suppressed the urge to sigh at human foolishness. As if it wasn't painfully obvious from the protective way the man was hovering beside the woman.

"Well …" Buffy blushed, "Faith told me, actually."

"Faith?" the older woman stared at the dark-haired girl in surprise.

The one named Faith grinned in a lazy, self-satisfied way.

"It was pretty obvious, guys. You had the sparks going every time I saw you together. Kinda like B when she was with –" she stopped suddenly.

This time Hansard did sigh. It was safe enough to do so, and the pathetic romances of humans really were extremely _tiresome_.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, and then the older woman spoke again,

"Since you already know that Giles and I are seeing one another, I suppose I should tell you that he will be renting the spare room at home when his lease here expires."

Buffy, who had been in the midst of sipping her drink, choked suddenly, juice splashing on her cheeks and chin.

Wordlessly, Giles offered her a handkerchief, and the blonde wiped her face hurriedly, her eyes wide and slightly shocked.

"He's moving in?" she squeaked at last, as the brunette beside her tried; not too hard; to conceal the broad smirk on her face.

"To the spare room." Giles reminded her. "This apartment has become somewhat of a financial burden, and Joyce was thinking about getting a lodger anyway."

"And it will nice to have some company." Buffy's mother admitted, "the house seems pretty empty now that you are back at college."

"But what will we do about Scooby meetings?" Buffy frowned, "We won't have a place –"

"What's wrong with the house?" Joyce interrupted. "I know you mean well when you shield me from what happens in your life, Buffy, but I'd really prefer that you didn't. In some ways, not knowing can be just as bad."

"Sounds like a sweet deal to me, B." Faith told the blonde, "Giles' place is cosy, but it ain't much for catering. Your mom keeps a killer fridge."

Buffy smiled is a resigned fashion,

"Who am I to argue with logic like that?" she asked rhetorically, "Heck … if you guys need any help with moving, let us know."

"Yeah." Faith grinned, "Our slayer powers also offer us a great career as furniture removalists."

"Quite." Giles agreed, not entirely enthusiastically. "Now Buffy, on the phone you said something about a strange … connection … that seemed to have formed between you and Faith?"

"Connection?" Joyce asked, her expression worried.

"We're not sure what it is, exactly." Buffy said, with a slight shrug.

"You remember last night, Giles?" Faith asked, "When we seemed to know what each other was going to say?"

"Yes." Giles said dryly, "I seem to remember something of the sort."

"Well it keeps happening." Faith looked worried, "Not all the time, but … now and then –"

"Intermittently?" Giles suggested.

"Yeah." Faith flashed a quick grin at the man, "And that's not all. Earlier I said 'wigged'."

"What's the matter with that?" Joyce asked in surprise, "Buffy and Willow say it all the time."

"Faith _never_ says 'wigged'." Buffy explained, "It would be like me saying 'five by five' –"

"Only much dorkier." Faith grumbled, earning a playful punch from the blonde.

"So you're thinking you may have some sort of telepathic bond?" Giles said thoughtfully, moving to his bookshelf and scanning the titles.

"Not that strong." Buffy clarified, "I don't hear Faith's thoughts. Not most of the time, at least. But I can sense things about her mood –"

"And sometimes we do hear thoughts." Faith interjected, "Or at least, I think I did, earlier today."

"Interesting." Giles pulled a book from the shelf, considered the front cover for a few moments, then put it back in its place. "Have you had any similar experiences to Faith, Buffy? Using words that you normally wouldn't, that sort of thing?"

Buffy frowned in thought, then nodded suddenly,

"Just before I killed those four newborn vamps. I referred of myself as 'B'. I don't remember ever doing that before."

"Well we already knew that there was some sort of bond between you." Giles mused, "There was that dream you shared just before graduation, for instance."

"And we both had bad dreams last night." Buffy said thoughtfully.

"Really?" Giles pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose, "Do you remember what you dreamed about?"

"The usual. Vampires and monsters. But I don't remember much of it."

"Faith?" Giles addressed the brunette girl, who hadn't answered. She glanced up at him and swallowed, then said in a small voice:

"Prison." There was a note of pain in her voice.

"We were thinking it might have something to do with when we swapped bodies." Buffy said, evidently deciding that any subject was better than lingering on Faith's dream.

"Possibly." Giles did not sound very confident, "But this is not the first time you have seen one another since then. Did you experience anything similar when you were in Los Angeles, Buffy?"

"No." the blonde answered, her expression slightly melancholy.

"Faith?"

"Nothing." the brunette shook her head.

"It doesn't seem very likely, then." Giles rubbed his chin, then snapped his fingers suddenly, "Of course! I think I have it!"

"So fill us in already, Giles." Buffy leaned forward.

"When you fought Adam, you drew on the power of the slayer throughout the ages." Giles enthused, "All the way down from the first … to the current holder of the powers."

"I don't get it." Faith admitted.

"I do." Buffy looked thoughtful, "You're saying that, when we cast the spell, we tapped into Faith's powers –"

"And the link that already existed between you was somehow strengthened. I did warn you that the spell could have serious repercussions, remember."

"I had hoped that visit from the first slayer would be enough." Buffy said dryly, "But why didn't we notice the connection before this?"

"It could be linked to your proximity." Giles suggested, "So whilst Faith was in Los Angeles and you were here, it was basically inert."

"So if you tapped into my powers to kill Adam, that means I helped defeat him." The brunette was apparently a few steps behind the rest of the conversation, "That's pretty cool!"

The blonde smiled,

"Thanks for the assist, Faith. I couldn't have done it without you."

"Cute. Stealing my line." The brunette grinned, then abruptly grew more serious, "Giles … could the link between us just have been less obvious when I was in LA? Not, uh … 'inert' … but more subtle?"

"It's possible." The man agreed, "Although this is all conjecture, remember."

"Well here's some _conjecture_ for you." The brunette appeared torn between anger and fear. "What if I'm still the same psycho I always was, and it's just Buffy's connection with me that makes me seem okay now? What then?"

For several seconds, no-one seemed to have an answer, and then the blonde gently laid a hand on the arm of the brunette.

"That isn't what's happening." She insisted, "You gave your confession to the police long before we cast the spell. That was when you began to reform. That was you, not anybody else."

"Maybe." The brunette appeared unconvinced.

Hansard observed silently. As usual, the humans saw little and understood less.

The phone rang, breaking another uncomfortable silence that had arisen between the humans. The older woman, Joyce, answered it on the second ring.

"Hello? Oh, hello Willow. No, you dialled Giles' number. I'll just get him for you."

The woman passed the handset to the man and returned to her seat.

"We were talking. Buffy and Faith are also here." The man said in patient tones. "Yes, they seem to be. What did you call about? Oh. Is she all right? Good. Just a moment."

Giles turned to the others in the room,

"Willow spoke to Angel. It seems that Spike was probably in Los Angeles last night. Angel thought we should know. He told Willow that the most likely reason for Spike to be in town would be recruitment."

"Spike's not exactly a polite guest." Buffy said, "There's a good chance he left a trail. Can you ask Willow to try and get into the LAPD case files? See if anything odd came up last night? Maybe we can trace his movements."

"Good idea." Giles relayed the request. "Yes, two o'clock. I don't know. See you then."

He hung up.

"Willow said she would bring anything they found to the meeting." He explained, "She asked if you would be there, Joyce."

"No, I need to be at the gallery then." The woman answered, "In fact, I really ought to be there now." She rose and picked up her bag, then kissed Giles a little awkwardly, obviously unsettled by her daughter's presence.

Hansard moved so that he was beside the front door as the humans said their goodbyes. He would need to report this to Spike immediately. There would be plenty of time to return for the meeting in the afternoon.

As Giles opened the door, Hansard slipped out, heading directly for the vampire's lair.

Spike's good mood had evaporated.

"When was the last time anyone saw him?" he demanded of the female vampire who had brought him the news.

The female cringed, a sight that usually would have pleased Spike, but now just irritated him.

"Thomas went out at sundown, as instructed." She whined, "He has not been seen since."

Spike swore. Thomas was smart, and careful. That was why he had been chosen to keep the nightly watch on the slayer. If he hadn't returned, it could only be bad news. _He's probably dust_. There was a small chance that Thomas had simply been caught too far from the lair to return before sunrise, but Sunnydale's extensive sewer-system made that unlikely.

"Fetch Aleister." He snapped, "Tell him I have the item he needed."

The female scurried to do as instructed.

"They fear you." The dead voice came from about ten feet behind him, and Spike was forced to bite down on a cry of surprise.

"So they bloody should." He answered, turning to face Hansard. "Didn't expect you back so soon. Slayer too much for you?"

"Quite the opposite. Watching her is childishly easy." The reply was flat and unemotional, despite the obvious baiting of Spike's remark. "I have news that I thought you should receive immediately."

"Yeah?" Spike lit a cigarette, confident that anything so urgent could not be good news.

"There are two slayers. The second one is named 'Faith'."

"Old news, mate." Spike smirked, "But we don't need to worry about her. The two of 'em hate one another, and she's locked up in LA, anyway."

"Incorrect." Hansard responded calmly, "Faith is in Sunnydale. She and the other slayer have reconciled their differences."

Spike swore. _I just can't catch a break_.

"Great." He muttered, "Two slayers. As if one wasn't bad enough."

"They have weaknesses. Both allow emotion to influence them. And the one named Faith lacks self-confidence."

"Yeah, thanks for that." Spike said sarcastically, "Got any other news for me?"

"Someone called Angel has warned them that you were in Los Angeles last night. They have begun to try and trace your movements. Whatever you are looking for, I recommend that you find it soon."

Spike spat out the half-finished cigarette.

"_Shit_. How did that son of a bitch find out?" he paused, and his eyes narrowed, "And how did you know I was looking for something?"

"You purchased the eyes of a Taladar from Mr Wurth. Taladarm eyes have only one mystical value: the location of objects through magic."

"You're bloody well informed." Spike admitted grudgingly, "Are you up to lending a hand with the spell? I'll put in an extra five thousand."

The strange, dead-voiced man shook his head.

"I have an extensive understanding of mystical matters." He acknowledged, "But the laws of our people prohibit us from employing your magic."

"You're telling me you do that disappearing act of yours without magic?" Spike didn't bother to conceal his disbelief.

"We have our own rituals." Hansard clarified, "They are very different from yours."

Spike shrugged. The offer had been a whim, nothing more.

"Right. That all you got for me?"

"All that was urgent." Hansard replied, "The rest can wait. I shall return to observing the slayer now, unless you have other instructions."

"Go ahead." Spike could hear the approach of a lone vampire. _Aleister_.

Hansard paused,

"If I may inquire," he said, "what is it you seek?"

For a moment, Spike considered his answer. Then he shrugged. _It'll all be in the open soon enough_.

"The Gem of Fey'R. I think it's somewhere in Sunnydale."

For a moment, he almost thought he saw a reaction in the other man's face, but Hansard's voice was as emotionless as ever when he replied,

"You realise that if you do find the Gem, this town will become a magnet for every Jeneth demon in the mortal world?"

Spike smirked,

"I'm counting on it, mate."


	4. Chapter 4

**Watching Your Back (Part 4)**

**Previously ...**

Faith has returned to Sunnydale, apparently intent on reconciliation with Buffy and her friends. Torn between suspicion of the other girl and her reluctance to kill a someone who resolutely refused to fight back, Buffy has at last grown to trust Faith again, though there are still questions between the two slayers.

Meanwhile, Spike is seeking the Gem of Fey'R. If recovered, this item would prompt a flood of demons to come to Sunnydale. Aware only that the vampire has some plan afoot, the gang is attempting to discover what it is. So far, they have made little progress …

**Chapter Ten**

"Wesley realised it was me on the phone."

"Huh?" Buffy started, nearly dropping the bag of Twinkies she had been trying to sneak into the shopping cart.

Faith took the Twinkies from the other slayer and put them back on the shelf.

"When I called Angel from prison and Wesley answered." She explained, "He realised it was me."

"Faith," Buffy obviously remembered how upset she had become when they discussed this matter earlier, "you don't have to do this."

"It's okay." Faith shrugged. _The crazy thing is, I do feel okay_. "You backed me up with your mom today, B. Way more than I thought you would. You're putting a lot of trust in me. I guess it's time I put a lot in you."

Buffy actually blushed.

"Thanks," she acknowledged in a small voice, "but are you sure you want to do it here? It seems very … public." she waved vaguely at the store.

"Why not?" Faith shrugged, "You and Red used to wander the halls of Sunnydale High discussing vampires. Nobody said anything then." _And I want to do this while I still have the nerve_.

Buffy didn't answer at first, then grinned,

"Yeah. I guess we weren't as discrete as we could have been. But I do have one condition."

Faith frowned,

"What?" it came out sounding more surly than she had intended.

Buffy grabbed the packet of Twinkies and pouted,

"Please?"

Faith sighed, and shrugged ruefully, then returned to her story as the now beaming blonde slayer stowed the Twinkies in the cart.

"After about the fourth or fifth time Wesley said 'hello', I finally managed to say something: 'sorry'. Nothing else. I hung up right after. I was pretty much a mess." She pushed the cart along the aisle, regretting ever leading Buffy into the minefield of sweet snack foods. "Wesley must've recognised my voice, because he came to the prison the next day to see me. I don't know why. I don't think he did either. But I was glad he came."

"Why didn't Angel come?" Buffy interrupted, "I would have thought … well, he was the first one who trusted you…"

"Wesley said Angel had his hands full with another emergency. I never got the full story what that was." Faith admitted, "They didn't like to talk about it, much. But I got the picture that someone from Angel's past had turned up. Someone he thought was dead."

"Someone he loved." It wasn't a question. Buffy's voice was toneless and flat.

"B," Faith shifted uncomfortably, "There's never been anyone for him like you."

"Yeah? He's got a funny way of showing it."

For a moment, Faith considered pressing the point. _Let it go. B has to deal with it herself_.

"So I told Wesley what was going on at the prison. Gave him everything I could on the guard and what I knew of the demon inside her. To be honest, I didn't think he would be able to do anything. But I figured at least he could let Angel know."

Faith paused to load a five pound bag of oranges into the cart. Buffy wrinkled her nose,

"Do we _really_ need that many?"

"They cost less than your Twinkies." Faith smirked, "And they make much better snack food."

"I didn't realise I came shopping with my mom." Buffy mock-scowled. "So Wes told Angel?"

"No." Faith answered, "He worked out what kind of demon it was from what I'd told him. Turned out to be a real charmer; feeding off pain. Physical pain, I mean."

"Nice." Buffy snagged a box of tea bags from the shelf, "Earl Grey?"

Faith shook her head,

"Prince of Wales."

"'kay." Buffy swapped boxes with a shrug. "So did Wes know how to slay this thing?"

"No special requirements." Faith clenched and unclenched her fists slowly, "Wes said it wasn't even much stronger or faster than a normal human."

"Sounds pretty low on the ol' demon threatometer."

Faith grimaced,

"That was the problem, B. Here was this … crappy little demon … that either of us could have slain in a heartbeat if we met it on patrol. But in jail, I couldn't do anything about it. That was when I began to realise that I couldn't do any good in there."

"So what did you do? I mean, if you couldn't slay it."

"At first, Wesley was going to go to Angel once he knew what we were dealing with. But Angel was still wrapped up in this other problem. So he called Kate, instead."

"Kate?"

"She's a cop. She knows about Angel."

"I've met her." Buffy's tone suggested that her memories of the encounter were not pleasant. "She didn't seem like she would be the sort to help you."

"Yeah." Faith agreed, not wanting to dwell on the night she gave her confession. "Katie and Angel have a pretty complicated relationship. She knows she needs his help to deal with some of the stuff that's out there, but when she looks at him she sees Angellus. It's gotta be hard for her to need him and hate him all at once."

Buffy didn't reply, and Faith mentally kicked herself. _Jesus girl, remember who you're talking to_.

"So, anyway," she continued, eager to fill the silence, "Kate didn't like Angel, but she liked the idea of a demon as a prison guard even less. She and Wesley dealt with the problem. They wouldn't tell me how. Probably afraid that it might send me into psycho-slayer mode again." She grinned, trying to make a joke of it, but it sounded flat in her ears.

"You like her, don't you?"

"Huh?" Faith paused in the middle of the aisle, then shuffled across sheepishly when a woman behind them squawked at the delay.

"You like her." Buffy said quietly, "You called her 'Katie'."

"Yeah, I guess I do." Faith was puzzled, "She doesn't take any crap from anyone and she's tough as they come. She reminds me a lot of you."

Buffy seemed unimpressed by the comparison,

"She threatened to _kill_ Angel."

"I did much more than that." Faith reminded her, "And for less reason. Katie was just trying to do her job. Once the cops got involved, Angel shouldn't have tried to protect me."

"How can you say that about someone who tried to help you?" Buffy seemed horrified.

"B," Faith sighed, "I know how much I owe Angel. But that doesn't mean that anyone who disagrees with him is wrong. _You_ thought he was wrong that night, as well."

The blonde slayer opened her mouth as if to object, then frowned and remained silent.

"Geez, B." Faith managed a grin, "I thought you were supposed to be the forgiving one."

Buffy returned the smile, wanly.

"I guess you're right." She didn't sound convinced, "I just don't like people threatening my friends."

_So I've learned._

"Anyway, that's how Wesley and I started to patch things up." Faith shrugged, "He said it was seeing how badly I wanted to do something about the demon, and how hard I'd had to work to keep my temper, that persuaded him I'd changed. From then on, he came to see me almost as often as Angel. Even Kate started to come most weeks, though that was mainly to talk shop."

"Shop?"

"She wanted to know more about what was out there, and she couldn't bring herself to go to Angel." Faith shrugged, "I don't know why she felt she could trust me to tell her, when she couldn't trust him. But she did." _ And it meant a lot to me_.

Buffy nodded without answering.

"We should get out of here." Faith changed the subject, "We'll be late for that meeting this afternoon if we don't motor-vate."

"Yeah." Buffy agreed shortly, eyeing the half-full shopping cart, "You're sure this is cheaper than ordering out?"

"It will be if I can stop you buying candy and soda."

"So basically, no."

Faith grinned despite herself.

"We patrolling tonight?"

Buffy nodded,

"Yeah. I want to get the sweep done as early as possible, though. I'd like to go see Riley afterward, if I can."

"Oh. Okay."

The blonde pushed a strand of hair back and folded her arms, looking carefully into Faith's eyes. The brunette fought an urge to fidget.

"You don't like him much, do you?" Buffy observed, quietly.

Faith shrugged uncomfortably,

"Hardly matters, B. He's your guy, not mine."

"That's not an answer." Buffy was quiet, but determined, "I want to know."

"To be honest, B, I barely know the guy." Faith sighed, "I guess I just figured you and –"

She broke off. _No, don't go there_.

But Buffy wasn't about to let the matter rest,

"You just figured what?"

Faith sighed, admitting defeat,

"Well, that you Angel were forever, y'know? After everything you went through, you still loved him. When I woke up and found you with someone else, I figured at first that Angel..."

"… was dead?"

"Yeah." Faith kept her eyes on the floor, "I thought the boss-" she swallowed, "the mayor's poison had killed him. I thought _I'd_ killed him."

Buffy didn't look much more comfortable than Faith herself felt.

"Angel walked away, not me." She said, defensively. "But I guess he was right to do it. We couldn't ever have had something, Faith. I know you owe him a lot, and that he still misses me, but it can't work out between us."

"Yeah, I know." Faith said, but her tone belied her words.

"Okay, that's it." Buffy stepped closer to her, forcing the brunette to look her in the eyes, "You know something, don't you? Something about Angel?"

"B…" Faith protested, weakly. "Please don't ask. Don't make me choose between you and Angel. I don't want to hurt him."

Buffy blinked,

"You'd choose me?" she whispered, "But Angel…"

"Was the one who stood by me when no-one else would?" Faith mumbled, "Yeah, I know. But I can't choose him over you. I chose someone else over you once before, and look where that got me. I won't do it again."

Buffy did not answer for a moment, appearing overwhelmed by the other slayer's admission. Finally, she cleared her throat and spoke,

"I … I want to know, Faith." She sounded regretful, but determined, "I can see it's hard for you, but I _need_ to know."

Faith rubbed her eyes. _I'm sorry_. She wasn't sure if she were apologising to Angel, to Buffy, or to herself.

"Wesley discovered a prophecy," she whispered, "when Angel completes his destiny, his humanity will be restored."

"He'll … be human, again?" Buffy's words were barely audible.

"Yeah." Faith could hear the raggedness of her own voice.

"Oh god…"

"Yes, but how long will it take?" Spike snapped, his limited patience exhausted. "You're _supposed_ to be my mystical know-it-all, Aleister, but you've been ducking that question for the last half hour. Now, I want an answer in the next thirty seconds, or I'll stake you where you stand."

Aleister, a tall but rather scrawny vampire with a ragged goatee, grinned weakly,

"Well…" he began evasively, then choked in terror as Spike's expression darkened, "two weeks."

"Two weeks?" Spike snarled, the ridges of his vampiric face forming, "You told me that once we had the eyes of the Taladar you'd be ready to begin."

"I, uh, misinterpreted the –"

"You mean you screwed up?"

"Not quite." Aleister protested weakly, then blanched when Spike grabbed him by the neck, "But close enough to it not to argue. Yes, screwed up. That I did."

Spike sighed and released the whining vampire. _Much as I'd like to, I can't afford to kill him. Yet_.

"So what's the delay?" he demanded, "What did you 'misinterpret'?"

"The eyes have to be steeped in an effusion of vital fluids for twelve days."

"In English, mate?"

"We have to soak them in a big vat of blood."

"Yeah." Spike shrugged, "Shouldn't be much of a problem. This is Sunnydale, after all. Any particular sort of blood?"

"Human. Fresh, preferably."

Spike scowled. _A waste of good food_. Not just that, but it was the sort of thing that would attract the attention of the slayer. _Both of them_. His scowl deepened at the thought of there being two slayers in town.

Abruptly, he realised that Aleister was watching him nervously, apparently petrified that Spike's bad mood was directed at him.

"Get out of my sight." He growled, "I'll make sure you get your blood. You just make sure there are no more unexpected delays."

Aleister fled immediately, offering Spike the only satisfaction he had drawn from the conversation. _Got the bastards running scared_.

He lit a cigarette and drew the smoke in slowly. There were still several hours until dark, and Hansard should be back well before then. He would decide his next move after the spy reported what else he had learned.

At least there were _some_ people he could rely on to get the job done.

"That was Willow." The neurotic blonde with the ridiculous name announced to the assembled group. "She and Tara are running a little late, but they should be here soon."

Hansard suppressed an urge to sigh. These humans were not only tiresome, but numerous. Already, six of them were crowded into the apartment's small living room, and the prospect of two more was decidedly unwelcome.

He was not concerned that the increasing numbers would lead to his detection, of course, but they would complicate his job by multiplying the number of voices, faces and auras he had to keep track of. These matters were complicated enough already, with the six current occupants of the room.

"Then it might be best for us to wait for them to arrive, to save repeating ourselves." Giles suggested, earning Hansard's silent appreciation.

"As long as it won't take too long," the demoness sitting on the couch grumbled, "Xander and I were trying to fit in some sex before four."

Hansard smiled thinly at the uncomfortable silence which followed this announcement. The human propensity for embarrassment about procreation remained one of their most foolish traits. He found the demoness' lack of complexity quite welcome.

The one named Faith raised her eyebrows and stage-whispered to the blonde,

"Not the shy type, is she?"

"Look who's talking." The blonde climbed into a chair with the young sandy-haired male and kissed him thoroughly. Expressionless, the brunette looked away and fell silent. Hansard watched the colours of her aura slowly darken and bruise, reflecting emotions that the young woman was otherwise quite adept at concealing.

As the kiss deepened, most people joined Faith in looking away. The demoness had no such compunction. Neither did Hansard, though his attention was focussed on the blonde's aura. It was definitely slightly different than it had been in the morning.

"Well," the one named Giles cleared his throat, "perhaps we ought to start after all. What have we learned so far, Buffy?"

"Huh?" the blonde broke the kiss, but remained seated in the young man's lap, her arm around his shoulders, "uh, yeah. Well not much, really. Willow was doing the research thing. Faith and I were going to patrol tonight, though. To see if we could turn up any of Spike's lackeys."

At the mention of Faith's name, both young men in the room favoured her with suspicious glances. Hansard noted their hostility toward the brunette. It might be useful information for his employer.

"Do you want us to come along?" the one named Xander asked, "Make sure nothing goes wrong?"

"No need." Faith folded her arms across her chest, "Anyone tries to mess with us and we'll kick their ass from here to Boston." She stared at the dark-haired boy, seemingly daring him to take issue with her statement, and he subsided.

At that moment, Hansard sensed someone approaching the apartment. Moments later, there was a gentle knock on the door. Giles answered it, then said in a relieved tone of voice,

"Ah, Willow. Come in. Now we can really get started."

"Hey, Red." Faith drawled from her chair, "Where's your squeeze?"

The redhead named Willow frowned. Hansard could sense the odour of human magic around her.

"Tara's outside." She said shortly, then turned to Buffy, "Did you bust Giles' door again?"

"No, Will. Why?" the blonde looked confused. It was becoming a familiar expression.

"The spell wires have all activated. That should only happen if someone comes in without Giles' permission." Willow explained, "Tara's resetting them now."

Hansard frowned. _Is it possible they detected me?_ He discounted the thought. _A human sorcerer would not even know what to look for_.

And then the blonde girl walked in.

Later, Hansard would allow himself to feel a moment of satisfaction that he did not betray himself immediately. It took all his self-control to quell the outrage that rushed through him.

One of his own people. And she was covered in the stench of human magic.

He thrust down the emotion, which was so strong and unfamiliar as to feel almost like a physical sickness, then refocussed his will, shoring up the magical wards which kept him concealed. Although more than sufficient to fool humans, they would not last long against the heightened perceptions of one of his own kind.

Gingerly, he edged toward the still-open door, glad at first that the blonde's attention was on the redhead who had preceded her inside. If he could exit whilst her attention was diverted, he might not be discovered.

Giles closed the door.

Hansard suppressed a discomforting sense of irritation and tried to calmly consider his options. As he did so, he flicked his eyes back to the blonde.

And saw her beside the redhead. The _human_ redhead. Their hands were clasped like lovers'.

His self-control shattered.

He tried to salvage the wards, but it was too late: they had all but collapsed. For a moment, even a human might have sensed him. There was no chance that one of his own would not.

The blonde span toward him, a look of horror on her face. As well there might be, from one who had broken the most scared laws of their people.

Then she screamed.

He ran for the door, pushing Giles roughly aside. The human male tumbled off his feet, no doubt unprepared for the impact. A quick twist of the handle and Hansard pulled the door open, plunging through it and way from the blasphemy he had just witnessed.

Tara suddenly span around, a look of utter terror on her face.

Moments later, she screamed.

Buffy tumbled from Riley's lap, falling into a crouch as she scanned the room for threats. _Nothing_.

Giles suddenly reeled backwards, then fell. As he did so, the door flew open. For a moment, the slayer thought she saw someone standing there, and then the impression was gone.

Slowly, Buffy stood. Tara had stopped screaming, and Willow was now holding the blonde tightly, stroking her hair and talking to her soothingly.

"You see anything?" Faith asked, moving to stand beside her.

"For a moment," she quietly replied, "in the doorway."

The brunette nodded,

"Me too. What do you think it was?"

"Not sure." Buffy said, moving to the door and staring out of it as Faith offered Giles a hand to help him up. She frowned, realising that she had walked right past her Watcher without checking if he was alright. _Damn, I'm distracted today_.

"Are you okay?" she asked him quietly, closing the door and turning back toward the room.

"I seem to be in one piece." Giles nodded to the brunette who had assisted him, "Thank you, Faith."

"No problem." Faith shrugged, then glanced at the others. "Any of you guys see anything?"

Riley and Xander shook their heads immediately, Anya a few moments later.

"Red?"

"Something in the doorway. Not a clear look." Willow's voice was muffled from the comforting hug she was giving Tara.

"Any ideas what it was?" Riley was on his feet now, staring out the window.

"New prey." Buffy shrugged, then frowned. _Where did that come from?_ A moment later, she realised everyone was looking at her and grinned weakly, "That is, a new monster."

"It wasn't a monster." Tara straightened and half-turned in Willow's arms.

"Then what was it?" Xander asked from the couch, "because it sure looked like a monster to me. Not that I actually saw anything. But that's my point."

Tara swallowed,

"It was a person. A person without a soul." She turned back to Willow, resting her head on the other girl's shoulder, "I don't feel well. Can we go home?"

"Yeah, of course." Willow kissed her on the forehead.

"Uh, Willow?" Buffy surprised herself by interrupting, "Not wanting to get all goals-focussed on you, but what about the research?"

The redhead gave her a hurt look, which Buffy met evenly. _Spike's still out there_.

"We tried to get into the LAPD case file," the witch said at last, "but the current files are pretty well protected. They could take weeks to break into. Normally I can use magic to circumvent that sort of thing, but my spells didn't seem to work. It's like someone has put magical wards on the data."

_Damn_. Buffy grimaced. All this waiting was getting on her nerves. _It's well past time to slay_.

"Maybe Angel has heard something." Willow said in a cool tone, steering Tara gently toward the door, "You should phone him."

_Angel_. She remembered the bomb Faith had dropped on her that morning. The bomb she had demanded to hear. _He will be human again one day_. _How can I be with anyone else, knowing that?_

She turned to look at Riley, and felt a surge of desire. _How can I give him up?_ She wanted to taste his lips again, as desperately as she had a few minutes ago. To feel his hands on her body.

Buffy looked down at her own hands, which were trembling slightly. Dimly, she could hear the others saying their goodbyes. She muttered her responses automatically, her mind on the hunt to come. She imagined Spike running from her through the cemetery, dodging and weaving, desperate to escape. She imagined the sound of _his_ shoulder-joint snapping, and the look on _his_ face as he collapsed into dust. Her lips stretched slowly into a smile.

"-fy?"

"Huh?" she glanced up to find Riley looking at her with a worried expression, "Sorry, I was miles away."

"I asked if you wanted me to come on patrol with you, tonight?"

Her smile broadened, cat-like. She wanted him. She wanted him _now_.

"No. Faith and I have got it. Besides, you won't be in any condition to patrol." She snaked her arm around him and turned to look at the others, blinking in surprise when she realised that only Faith and Giles were still there. She gave the brunette a thumbs-up, "I'll meet you at the dorm room at seven, okay?"

"Sure." Faith didn't look too happy with the plan, but she didn't object, which was all Buffy cared about, "Seven."

"Don't start without me." The blonde giggled and dragged Riley toward the door, "See ya, Faith. Bye, Giles!"

Giles closed the door slowly behind Buffy and then turned to face Faith. To his surprise, he felt more comfortable with the brunette slayer than he had with the blonde.

"Was it just me, or was B way whacked?" Faith rubbed the side of her neck.

"She did seem, uh, exuberant." Giles admitted. He didn't say how much Buffy's behaviour reminded him of Faith's past demeanour. Faith was already worried enough about the link that seemed to have formed between the two slayers.

"I mean, that's the sort of way I would have acted, when I first came here."

Giles didn't reply for a moment. He had got so used to thinking of Faith as the 'crazy' slayer that it was hard to remember how perceptive she could be.

"Perhaps." He hedged his reply, "I suppose that I should call Angel and see if he has any news, given that Willow and Tara were unable to help us."

"Actually, do you mind if I make the call to LA?" Faith thrust her hands in her pockets, "I got some catchin' up to do, and it'll help kill some time. I'm not exactly knee deep in friends in this town."

"Oh. Yes." Giles flushed, though he wasn't sure why he should feel responsible for Faith's loneliness, "That seems like a fine idea. And you would be welcome to stay here for the afternoon, if you like."

He didn't really expect her to accept the offer. It had sounded embarrassed even to him. To his surprise, however, the brunette offered him a shy smile,

"Yeah. I'd like that. Maybe you could help me train?"

Giles blinked, trying to remember if Buffy had ever _asked_ to train with him.

"Yes, why not?" he paused, "I'll go and get the equipment whilst you make the phone call, alright?"

"Five by five, G-man."

He paused in walking toward the stairs,

"I'd rather you called me Giles."

"Whatever you say." Faith shrugged, "you're the Watcher … G-man."

He sighed and turned away, but a slight smile was on his lips. _You're the Watcher_. It was nice to hear it again.

**Chapter Eleven**

The door flew open and Angel looked up just in time to be lifted bodily out of his chair and slammed against the wall.

"Hello, Kate." He said mildly, the rapid beating of her heart loud in his ears.

"She's _alive_." The detective was furious, "Is the law some sort of game to you, Angel? That you'd help a murderer go free?"

"She's my friend." He replied quietly, "I couldn't let her kill herself."

"That's a long way from breaking her out of jail."

"She would have tried again if I hadn't got her out." Angel met her anger with calm.

"My, Angellus." The voice from his left was sensual, but mocking. "Who is this exquisite creature?"

"Don't call me that." He grated. Kate released him and turned toward the newcomer, her face still flushed with anger. For a silent moment, the two blondes faced one another. Human and vampire.

"Aren't you going to introduce us, my love?" the mockery was gone now, but the sensuality was stronger; a woman claiming her territory.

"Kate, this is Darla. Darla, Kate." He pushed off from the wall and adjusted his jacket.

Darla smiled condescendingly,

"We're old friends." She confided.

"I'm sure." Kate didn't look away from the female vampire, "Given up on the soul-boy thing, Angel? I thought you didn't run with her kind any more."

He drew some satisfaction from seeing a moment of surprise in Darla's expression, but she recovered as quickly as always,

"She knows what you are? My goodness, you have been indiscreet, Angellus."

"_Don't_ call me that." He moved to stand beside Kate. Since Wolfram & Hart had brought Darla back, the ancient bond between them was stronger than it had ever been. _Blood calls to blood_. There were times when he could not control himself with her. But he was not a thrall, to be treated so condescendingly.

"My heartfelt apologies to you both." Darla inclined her head gracefully, loading the words with four hundred years of polite contempt. "I shall be downstairs, 'Angel'. Come to me when you are done here."

Kate watched the female vampire go without speaking, then turned on him as soon as Darla was out of sight. The interruption had done nothing to cool her temper.

"I don't want to know about it." She snapped, "So don't try to explain."

"How did you find out about Faith?" He had _no_ intention of trying to explain Darla to her. _I doubt I could explain it to myself_.

"She _phoned_ me." Kate's voice shook with anger and disbelief, "came through the switchboard as cool as can be. 'Hiya, Katie. Don't freak. I'm not calling you from beyond the grave'."

Angel kept his face impassive, though within he was not sure what he was feeling.

"Why did she phone you?" he really didn't know if Kate would answer, but it was something he had to ask. _Faith has put us all at risk by doing this_.

"She wanted information." Kate folded her arms and glared at him, "Said you'd told her some vampire had passed through LA. One who was really bad news."

"Spike."

Kate nodded,

"That was the name she gave me."

"Did you tell her?" Angel moved to sit on the edge of his desk.

"Of course not." The detective snapped, "that's confidential police information."

He nodded slowly. _I wonder why Willow didn't hack in to the LAPD system_.

"So what are you going to do?" he asked quietly, staring past her at the dark sky.

"I'm going to find her." The detective replied, her voice cold. "She has to pay for what she did."

"She is paying."

Kate stared at him for a moment, her hands sliding to rest on her hips.

"Where is she?"

He thought about lying, but the look in Kate's eyes told him that things could get much more difficult if he tried.

"Sunnydale."

"Don't tell her I'm going. If she runs, I'll come after you."

"She won't run." He met her eyes, "She needs to be there."

For a moment, Kate lowered her gaze, but then she shook her head firmly,

"She murdered people, Angel. Maybe you think she's reformed. But it's not your call."

"I know. It's yours."

She didn't answer, but turned away from him. Then she paused,

"She won't run?"

"No." he had never been more certain of anything. "She's done running."

Kate sighed, and her shoulders slumped slightly,

"Is this 'Spike' as bad she says?"

"Worse."

She glanced back at him over her shoulder, then said grudgingly,

"There was a murder at a motel on the east side. Suspect matches your guy's description. And there was a killing later that night that may have been him, too. A fistfight turned nasty. One of the other suspects on that one was a small time crook known as Paolo Wurth. Of course, Wurth's got half a dozen witnesses who say he was miles away at the time. But maybe it will be some help to her."

_Paolo Wurth_. The name seemed familiar, though he couldn't quite place it.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it. I never said anything." Kate paused, "She's got three days, Angel. That's when I'm next off-duty. Tell her to spend the time wisely."

Spike studied the bottle of whisky in front of him with a sour look on his face.

"How am I supposed to find a couple of warm, juicy victims without getting the slayers on my back?" he muttered under his breath. The bottle didn't answer, so he took another deep swig of the contents as a way of punishing it.

"My people have always found it easiest to hide in plain sight."

Spike yelped and fell off his chair, then glowered at his spy from the floor.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to do that, mate?" he levered himself off the ground and took a guilty look around to make sure his surprise had not been observed.

"We are alone." Hansard assured him calmly.

"You're back earlier than expected." Spike responded sourly, "what went wrong?"

"Your slayer has a renegade with her." For the first time Spike caught a trace of emotion in Hansard's flat, dead voice. _Disgust_.

"A renegade?" he put the bottle down, focussing on the grey man in front of him, having to fight the urge to look away.

Hansard nodded,

"One of my people who has abandoned our laws and polluted herself with human magic and emotion." He explained, somehow appearing reluctant despite his lack of hesitation, "One who is corrupted with the desires of flesh and soul."

"There's something to be said for desires of the flesh." Spike drawled, "But I've never been much of one for the soul."

Hansard shook his head,

"Even vampires and demons have a soul of sorts, however base it might be. My people do not. We are consciousness, nothing more. She seeks to be that which she is not."

"She's a very naughty girl." Spike agreed sourly, "But the bottom line is that she busted you, isn't it?"

"Regrettably, yes." Hansard replied, with no visible display of regret. "I will return your payment, as I have failed in my task."

Spike belched,

"Did you learn anything before she spotted you?"

"There is antagonism and mistrust between the slayer named Faith and the others in the group. Only this 'Buffy' seems to trust her. However, it may be that the blonde's judgement is impaired. There is a strong spiritual struggle occurring within her."

Spike frowned,

"Distrust can't hurt. And anything that messes with that little slayer bitch's head is good with me. Anything else?"

"They are aware that you are planning something, but do not know what." Hansard replied, "I suggest you give them what they are looking for."

For a moment, Spike's whisky-fogged brain struggled to piece together the grey man's suggestion. Then he smiled slowly. It was not a pleasant smile.

"You can keep the money, mate." He said contentedly, "You just gave me an idea that is worth every cent."

Xander stepped left and hit the boxing bag again, shutting out the dull ache in his arms. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead as he grunted, slamming his fist into the yielding vinyl. He did this two hours a day, six days a week. _And I still can't offer anything to the team_.

"Your right's pretty good, but your left's so slow you may as well send invitations."

He stopped, sucking in a deep breath, then turned.

Faith was about twenty feet away, leaning against the wall of the gym, a smug smile on her lips.

"What are you doing here?" he didn't bother to conceal his distrust.

"Looking for you." The brunette slayer pushed off the wall with her shoulder and took a few steps toward him. He could feel his heart begin to beat faster, but held his ground. _I'm not going to let her intimidate me_.

"Well, you found me." He said sourly, "Now it's your turn to go hide."

"B said you'd been acting odd for the last couple of weeks," Faith continued, ignoring his jibe, "though she didn't know what was causing it. For a smart girl, she can be pretty dense. But I know what it is you want."

"There's no way _you_ know what _I_ want."

"You want to be part of the team."

He stared at her in surprise,

"Okay. Maybe there is a way."

Faith shrugged,

"I know what it's like to be outside the club."

_Ouch_. Despite himself, Xander felt a moment's sympathy_. Get a grip. This is the psycho-slayer you're talking to, remember?_

"You'll forgive me if I'm less than thrilled at being compared to you." As always, he covered his confusion with sarcasm.

To his surprise, there was no answering retort. Faith simply looked tired,

"I really didn't come here to fight, Xander." She began, then stopped. "Well, actually I did. But not this way."

"Yeah. Knives and strangling are more your scene, right?"

"Not any more."

He sighed,

"Y'know, I liked you better when you were just scary and mean. At least I knew how to deal with you, then."

"By screaming for help?" There was a brief flash of the old Faith in her smokey eyes.

"Pretty much." He grinned, a little nervously. "So what's the deal, Faith? You come to gloat because you actually get to _be_ part of the team, despite that whole 'turn to the dark side' episode of yours?"

She shook her head,

"When you hit me yesterday, you surprised the hell out of me." She touched her lip gently, as if remembering the blow, "Before that, I hadn't noticed how much you'd been working out. B hasn't seen it either, has she?"

"Of course not." He wiped back his hair, feeling the sweat bead on his palm, "Buffy just sees Xander, the lovable but ultimately useless buffoon."

"But _you_ think you've changed."

He paused,

"I see where you're going with this, Faith. But we aren't the same. I can train to fight. You can't train to be a better person."

For a moment, he could see he'd wounded her, but she covered it quickly with a nonchalant shrug,

"Neither of us will ever train successfully without a teacher." She didn't look at him, instead peering off to his right, "You want to be part of the team, Xander? So do I. If you'll give me the chance, I'll give you the training you need."

"And what do you get out of it?" _There has to be a catch_.

"Your trust." She looked at him at last, and he was surprised to see that there was no trace of mockery in her face.

"The last time I trusted you, you nearly killed me." He reminded her, but he could feel the confusion building within him. The offer was tempting. When he thought of her hands at his throat it was also frightening. But the temptation remained. _You're an idiot, Harris_.

Faith nodded,

"That's why trusting me now is such a big deal."

He groaned and covered his eyes. _I can't believe I'm going to do this_.

"You promise you won't try to kill me?"

Tara sat on the edge of the bed, watching Willow stare at her computer screen. The redhead had Miss Kitty in her lap, and was absently stroking the cat's ears, eliciting a slow, deep purr from the contented pet. She hadn't touched the keyboard in nearly ten minutes.

The blonde looked down at her hands. They felt cold and numb, whilst her face felt hot and flushed. She knew the signs. Fear. She hadn't been this afraid since she'd thought Willow would go back to her old boyfriend.

"You know, d-don't you?" she asked quietly.

It hurt that Willow didn't look at her to reply.

"I know you're upset. I don't know why." The redhead spoke quietly, her voice as miserable as Tara herself felt.

"I'm s-sorry." She whispered. "I never meant for this to happen. If you want me to l-leave…"

"_Leave_?" now Willow did turn to face her, and there was a tightness around her mouth. Tara could see the anger in her, "I thought you loved me."

"I _do_." Tara fought back tears. _But you won't. Not after this_.

"Tara," Willow softened her tone and gently placed Miss Kitty on the floor, "you can trust me."

The blonde swallowed, the mantras of her people echoing in her mind.

_# The human is a creature of emotion. #_

_# The human fears that which is different. #_

_# The human destroys what it fears. #_

_# You are different. #_

_# The human will fear you. #_

_# The human will _destroy_ you. #_

"If I lost you, I w-would die." She whispered.

Willow's hands gently clasped her own, providing them with much needed warmth.

"You won't lose me, Tara."

"I w-will." the blonde shook her head, "He … He'll come for me. I have broken every law of our people. He will come and take me to be p-punished. It is the way."

"Your people?" Willow sounded hurt and confused.

Tara looked up, meeting the redhead's eyes for the first time. _Goddess, she is so beautiful_. Even now she had been discovered, the blonde did not regret her crimes. How could she, when the most grievous of them was to love this woman?

"The soulless." She said at last, "I'm one of them."

"What?" Willow shook her head in disbelief, "Tara, you're human, just like me."

"No." for the first time in years, she reached into her childhood training. "I am not." Her voice was flat and dead, empty of warmth or hesitation. She saw Willow's eyes lose their focus, drifting away from her face. In minutes, the memory of her would be gone from the redhead's mind. It could be done, though the cost to her strength would be great. But Willow had to be protected.

The redhead squeezed Tara's hands suddenly, her nails cutting into Tara's skin.

The blonde's concentration unravelled, and she blinked, finding Willow's eyes once more focused on her.

"What was that?" Willow asked, her voice shaking, "you … vanished."

Tara nodded,

"Spells of concealment are our speciality." Her voice, at least, was still flat and cold. "You should not have been able to detect me at all, as you were unable to detect him. I am out of practice."

"Tara, _don't_." Willow squeezed her hands again, "I want to speak to you. The real you."

"W-why?" she asked, even as she did as the redhead asked, "I lied to you."

Willow slowly canted her head to one side, keeping her eyes locked on Tara's,

"Was it a lie when you said you loved me?"

"_No!_ Of course not…"

"Then tell me, Tara. Tell me what you are. I want to know. I want us to be together."

She sighed. But perhaps it would be best to tell Willow. _Then she might understand why she must forget me_.

"My people believe that everything in this world was created by the Goddess," she began slowly, "except us. We are mockeries … frauds. We exist in secret, never showing ourselves to humans. A few of us … those whose self-control is strongest … are permitted to interact with demons and vampires. They use their skills as spies and informants."

"I don't understand." Willow murmured, "Why must you hide?"

"We are … unclean … in the eyes of the Goddess. And to all she created. Humans fear and hate us. If we did not hide, we would be destroyed."

"But you …"

"I broke every law of our people." Tara whispered, tears beginning to well in her eyes, "I used magic to conceal my nature and walked among you. I learned to use human magic. Magic that calls on the Goddess. In the eyes of my people, there is only one sin greater than this. To love a human."

"But that's ridiculous!" Willow protested, "We're not so different."

"Really?" Tara reached out and touched the redhead's cheek. _Share_.

Willow's eyes widened suddenly, as the blonde showed her the world as one of her kind saw it: the incandescent blue fire that was Willow's soul; the tiny green spark that was Miss Kitty; and the gossamer spell weave that veiled the emptiness of Tara's own form.

Gently, she removed her hand, waiting for the rejection that was sure to come.

Instead of scorn, however, Willow's eyes were filled with tears,

"That … that's the way you see me?"

Tara nodded, silently.

"But I was so beautiful."

"You _are_ beautiful."

Willow leaned forward and kissed her on the lips,

"So are you, Tara. Soul or not." She paused. "I won't let him take you."

"You won't even see him." Tara explained, "You caught a glimpse today only because he was so upset when he saw me. He won't come for me until he is sure he can control himself."

"But you can see him, right?"

"Yes, but he is much more skilled at sorcery than me. I cannot stop him."

Willow shook her head,

"One thing I've learned from living on the Hellmouth is that _anything_ is possible." She said firmly, "And I _will_ find a way for us to stop him, Tara."

"But –"

"But nothing. I love you, and I won't ever let you go."

It was twenty past seven before Buffy finally arrived at the dorm room, red faced and breathing hard from running across campus. At least, Faith found herself hoping that was the reason. _Not that I care where B gets her itches scratched_. But the other explanation was far too much like something she herself would have done. Giles had been hitting the books pretty hard when she left his apartment earlier in the afternoon. It didn't take much to see that he was getting worried about Buffy's behaviour as well.

"Hey, you waited!" Buffy grinned, "ready to bust some demon heads?"

"If we can find any." Faith shrugged, "they seem to be laying pretty low at the moment."

"Yeah." Buffy pulled a leather jacket out of the wardrobe, then dug in her bag for some stakes. "It's starting to get on my nerves. I hate sitting around like this."

"When did you get the jacket?" Faith blurted. It was meant to distract her from thinking about the way the other slayer was acting, but as she asked the question she remembered when she had last seen Buffy wear it. _Jesus. The night she came for my blood_.

"This? Had it for years. Used to wear it a lot when I first came here." Buffy slipped into the jacket and briskly adjusted the fit, "Thought it might be time to give it another run."

"Right." Faith leaned against the door, ignoring the unsettled feeling in her gut. She'd been ready to patrol for more than half an hour. "You feelin' okay, B?"

"Never better. Why?" Buffy glanced up from lacing her boots.

"Just asking. You seem pretty hyped, lately."

"What's not to be hyped about?" Buffy straightened and slipped the stakes into hiding places amongst her clothes, "Things are great with Riley. You and I are back to being buds. Angel's going to be human again. On the hellmouth, this is as good as life gets."

Faith watched the other slayer silently. This was the moment when she needed to reach out. To break through to Buffy. To know exactly the right words to say. _Yeah, like I ever knew that_. So she retreated, afraid of driving the other girl away.

"Okay, B. Just wanted to check we were still five by five."

"Sure are." Buffy was finally ready to go, "But let's make this a fast sweep, huh? I want to hit the Bronze tonight and get some dancing in."

"Sounds good." Faith nodded slowly. The suggestion surprised her, but she had to admit that the idea had some appeal. It was likely that the patrol would not turn up any action, and showing Xander how to fight had left her on edge, but frustrated, the way sparring always did.

"You want the room to yourself tonight?" Buffy asked as she opened the door, "I can stay at Riley's. Give you a chance to bring someone back."

"Uh, no." ridiculously, Faith felt herself blush, "I'm actually trying to give up on the whole 'get some and get gone' kinda thing, B."

"Really?" the blonde was practically dragging her down the hallway, "I thought it was part of your life philosophy. You know, like 'Want. Take. Have.'?"

"It was." The brunette affirmed, "And it landed me in jail. I can either change, or I can end up back there." _And I have _no_ intention of going back_.

"Fair call." Buffy raced down the stairs, two at a time. "C'mon, let's motor-vate!"

"What did you say?" Faith plunged down the stairs after the blonde, who was already at the front doors of the dormitory.

"Motor-vate!" Buffy called over her shoulder as she pushed through the door, "You don't have it trademarked, do you?"

_No. But you've never used it before._

"Hey, wait up!" the dark-haired girl ducked through the still-swinging door to find the other slayer was fifty feet away and striding purposefully.

Buffy turned back to face her, continuing to walk backwards as she did so,

"Come on, slow-poke." She called, "We gotta get moving."

"B!" Faith yelled.

"What?"

"There's a bench behind -" Faith broke off as the blonde, still not looking where she was going, tumbled over a bench and landed flat on the ground.

For a moment Faith felt concern about the other slayer, but then Buffy sat up with a perplexed expression on her face, and the brunette burst into laughter instead. _At least it gives me a chance to catch up to her_.

"You okay, B?" she drawled, reaching out a hand to help the other slayer to her feet.

"Sure. Thanks so much for your sympathy." Buffy quipped, dusting herself off from the fall. "Your horrified peals of laughter really showed how much you care for me."

"Hey! I _do_ care for you." Faith protested, then grinned, "It was just really, really funny to see you fall on your ass."

"Could we not mention this again?"

"Sure. Not more than once or twice, anyway." Faith smirked, "Honest."

Buffy sighed.

"Come on. Let's get this patrol over with."

They set out, Buffy still keeping the pace up, moving quickly through the most likely sites of vampire activity. As expected, everything was quiet.

"Well, tonight was better." Faith said at last, as they headed toward the Bronze.

"Better how?" Buffy asked distractedly, "There still isn't a vamp in sight."

"Yeah, but at least we weren't tripping one another up the whole time." The brunette remarked, "Remember a couple of nights ago? It felt like we spent most of the patrol walking into one another. Tonight you just had that incident with the bench."

"I thought we agreed not to talk about that." Buffy gave her a false scowl.

"No problem." Faith grinned as they entered the Bronze, "I'll never mention it again. You want to get a drink, or head straight into dancing?"

"Dancing sounds good."

"Wicked. Oh, and B?"

"Yeah?"

"Try not to trip over anything while we're out there, 'kay?"

Laughing at Buffy's answering growl, Faith dived into the milling dancers, carving out a space for the two of them by a combination of her physical presence and judicious shoving. The blonde slayer wasn't far behind her, and within moments the two of them were lost in the pounding of the music, letting the loud, heavy rhythms drive them.

As usual, young men gravitated toward the two girls as they danced face to face. Neither slayer paid them any attention, focussing instead on matching one another's frenzied dance moves. No normal human could match their heightened strength, stamina and agility, and each was determined to push themselves to the limit, working off the frustration that had built over the day.

To Faith, the world had come down to a tiny circle. Just the two of them, embraced and driven on by the music. And as she looked at Buffy, she could see the feeling reflected in the other slayer's eyes.

And they danced on. Each lost in the primal, primitive grip of the rhythm.

**Chapter Twelve**

Buffy leaned back into Riley's arms as she surveyed the banner strung across the front door of the college administration building.

"A dance? Tonight?" she said, delighted, "How come you didn't mention this to me before, handsome?"

Riley smiled and hugged her tighter,

"I thought you knew. They always have a big dance a couple of days before classes start. Didn't you go last year?"

"I was pretty overwhelmed, this time last year." Buffy admitted.

"The change from high school to college can be intense."

"Yeah. Plus I had a gang of vampires out to kill me."

"I can see that complicating matters."

Buffy twisted in his arms, laughing as she did,

"Riley Finn! Was that a joke?"

"Maybe." He kissed her slowly, "So are we going?"

"You bet." Buffy grinned excitedly, "I'm in the mood to dance. It's a costume thing, right?"

"Yes. Last year was a beach party. This year's theme is 'The Old West'."

"I can find something for that." Buffy glanced back at the banner, "Is it for students only?"

"It's supposed to be." Riley whispered, "But I won't tell anyone if you invite Xander and Anya."

Buffy gave him a sly smile,

"Not even if they torture you?" she hissed in mock menace, "Like _this_?"

Riley yelped as Buffy's fingers tickled his sides, instantly finding the spots that she knew were most sensitive. Snaring her hands, he pulled her close to him,

"Even then. I have a secret counter-tactic."

"Oh?" the blonde raised an eyebrow, "And what might that be?"

"This." He leaned in and kissed her firmly, releasing her hands as he did so. Slowly, her arms slipped around his neck and the kiss deepened.

Reluctantly, they parted lips, though Buffy remained close to him, a pleased smile on her face,

"That is a remarkable counter-tactic you have there, mister." She murmured, "I think I may have to ask you to demonstrate it again."

"Well, why don't we go back to my room." He suggested, "And you can call the others about the dance. And then I can demonstrate … at length."

Buffy smiled,

"I like the way you think."

Xander hung up the phone.

"Who was it?" Anya asked from the bed.

"I wish you'd pull the covers up properly." He gestured vaguely, "My mom could walk in."

"I locked the door." Anya shrugged, "Besides, your mom has breasts of her own. Why would seeing mine worry her?"

"I am _so_ not going there." Xander shook his head.

"So who was on the phone?"

"It was Buffy."

Anya sighed and flopped back,

"I suppose the world needs saving _again_." She complained, "If it isn't one thing interrupting us, then it's another."

"What?" Xander frowned, "Oh. No, it wasn't anything like that. She just wanted to invite us to a dance at the college tonight."

"Well that's okay, then." Anya beamed, "Now come back to bed."

"Actually," Xander glanced at his aging alarm clock, "I wanted to head out to the gym a little early, today. Faith said she would show me some new moves."

"Faith?" Anya sat up sharply, "Faith, the girl you slept with?"

"That was a long time ago." Xander said, a little more sharply than he had intended.

"I don't like you spending all that time with her." Anya insisted, "Willow told me that fighting inflames Faith's sexual appetite!"

"Inflames her _what_?" Xander blinked. "Oh. Hungry and horny. Right."

"Exactly." Anya nodded, "I don't like you getting all sweaty with her. Who knows what could happen?"

"Anya," Xander sighed as he grabbed his sweatshirt from the floor, "I find it hard enough to trust Faith with this training. There is no way I intend to climb into bed with her."

"I know men." Anya pouted, "You say all these rational things, then you go and do your thinking with something else."

Xander grunted and tugged the sweatshirt over his head,

"If I was thinking with _that_," he pointed out in a somewhat muffled voice, "I wouldn't be leaving at all. You're much better in bed than Faith was." _That should quiet her down_.

"Really?" Anya sounded smug, "What do I better?"

_Jesus_.

"Everything." Xander said, lamely. "The thing with Faith was really skanky and bad. I swear."

"I knew it." Anya smirked, apparently satisfied by the answer. At least for the short term.

"So we doing the dance thing?" Xander asked, combing his hair back with his fingers, "Buffy said it started at about eight tonight, and it had a 'western' theme."

Anya shrugged,

"Sure. I still have that sheriff's outfit. You want to be the prisoner, again?"

Xander winced. Sometimes even being _alone_ with Anya could be embarrassing.

"I have a Clint Eastwood outfit I can use." He headed toward the door, "I'll meet you there, okay?"

Anya called out a response, but the closing door muffled the words. Xander shrugged and let himself out of the house. He still felt a little stiff from the sparring the day before, but it didn't trouble him too much. _And training with Faith _is_ actually helping_.

"Hey, Harris." The brunette slayer uncoiled herself from where she had been leaning next to the front door as Xander felt his heart leap into his throat.

"Geez, Faith." He choked, "You scared the hell outta me."

She shrugged and smirked,

"Must be part of that bad, skanky thing I got goin' on."

Xander swallowed, trying to work the large lump out of his throat,

"You _heard_ that?" he squeaked at last.

"Enough." Faith slung an arm around his shoulders. Despite himself, he felt an urge to cringe. "Slayer hearing is a wonderful thing. But don't worry 'bout it. I can tell you only said it because you're whipped."

"I am _not_ whipped." Xander protested, weakly.

"Of course you aren't," To his relief, Faith dropped her arm from his shoulders and allowed a little space to open between them, "I mean, you barely whined at all in there."

"You know," Xander gamely tried to hold his own, "You are enjoying this _far_ too much. It's got to be bad for your karma."

"I'm reformed, not dead."

Xander stopped and looked at the brunette for a long moment. The scrutiny seemed to make Faith uncomfortable, because she folded her arms across her chest,

"What?" she demanded, defensively.

For a second, he wasn't sure how to answer. _Ah, hell. Let's try honesty_.

"I was just trying to work out if it's a good or bad thing that you can joke about being reformed."

To Xander's surprise, Faith actually laughed. He raised his eyebrows,

"You care to share the joke?"

Faith grinned at him,

"I just think it's funny that your little missy in there has you jumpin' through hoops, but you somehow have the balls to tell _me_ exactly what you think."

"Yeah, well there's more to Anya that meets the eye." Xander said uncomfortably, "She has a lot of experience in getting even with men."

"My kind of gal." Faith said, as they reached the bottom of the steps leading into the gym, "So what were you saying to her about a dance?"

"There's this western-themed thing on at the college tonight. Buffy and Riley are going, and Anya and me." Xander held the gym door open for Faith, which earned him an amused smirk.

"What about Red and her squeeze?"

"Buffy said Willow couldn't make it. She and Tara are deep in the spells. Something to do with that weird invisible guy, I think."

"Pity." Faith said, in a neutral tone, "You could have had the whole gang there."

"Are you going to come?" Xander struggled to pull a crash-mat into place, then stood aside as Faith took over, easily pulling two of the mats into place.

"Me? I'd be a fifth wheel." Faith shook her head, "Literally. Besides, your girl might not care for me getting my invite from you."

Xander shrugged,

"Buffy said she was going to ask you when she saw you, so it's not really my invite."

"Warning you I'd be there, huh?" Faith smirked, unzipping her denim jacket.

"More like warning me to be on my best behaviour." Xander grimaced, "It seems my apology after I hit you was not enough to get me out of the bad books."

"We're five by five as far as I'm concerned." The brunette shrugged, "After all, I'm gonna be kickin' your ass all around this gym for the next three hours."

"Really? Y'know, I think I hear my mother calling…"

The dance was in full swing by the time Buffy arrived. Riley saw her enter and smiled in relief; he had been close to going to her dorm room to check that she was alright.

"You look swell, little missy." He hitched his thumbs in his belt and gave her his best western drawl. Buffy laughed, her eyes dancing, and leaned in to kiss him. She was wearing a denim skirt, white blouse and bright red neckerchief. _Every time I see her she looks more beautiful_.

Looking over the blonde's shoulder, he felt his smile falter.

"Hello, Faith. Nice costume."

The brunette pushed back the broad-brimmed black hat she was wearing,

"Riley." She answered shortly, her hands at her hips.

"Doc Holliday, right?" he ventured. _I'll try to be pleasant, for Buffy's sake_. "From that movie –"

"Tombstone."

He nodded. The brunette's costume really was impressive. She'd even managed to find a black string tie from somewhere. _Probably stole it_. He squelched the thought with a mental wince. Try as he might, he couldn't help but think the worst of Faith.

"The others here, yet?" she asked, glancing around the hall.

"Willow and Tara couldn't come." Buffy slipped her arms around Riley and leaned into him, "have you seen Xander yet, Riley?"

"He and Anya got here about half an hour ago." Riley nodded, "He said you'd remember his costume. Something about an Inca Mummy?"

Buffy nodded,

"Long story." Was her only response to his unasked question, "Where are they?"

"Xander made straight for the buffet -"

The lights went out.

For a moment, there was silence. Then the doors flew open and over a dozen figures burst in.

"Right, lads!" a half-remembered British voice yelled over the rising sounds of confusion, "kill and move on. No feeding! We're here for carnage, not hors d'oeuvres."

"Spike!" Buffy hissed and released Riley's waist. "At last!"

The blonde turned to Faith, who was already in the process of breaking a nearby chair for stakes.

"You up for this?" she asked.

"I'm your huckleberry." Faith drawled, tossing one of the stakes to Buffy.

The two slayers plunged toward the vampires as the screaming started.

Riley grabbed one of the remaining chair legs and snapped it off. More vampires were pouring into the hall: it seemed Spike had assembled a small army now that he was finally making his move.

"Where's Buffy?" Xander yelled, pushing through the panicked crowd.

"In the thick of it!" Riley shouted back, "I'm going to help her!"

"We'll get the lights!" Xander had Anya by the hand.

"Good plan." Riley nodded. "Things will be messy in the dark." _And it gets you out of harm's way_.

Without waiting for Xander's response, he pushed his way through the crowd toward the melee.

Progress was difficult, as people tried to push back against him, or fell in a panic, or grabbed his arm and asked what was happening, but Riley used his size and strength to force a path. He heard a scream, but couldn't be sure of the source. _Damn it, Xander, we need those lights_.

One last push, and he was through the panicking mass and into the fight. Dimly, he could see Buffy and Faith back-to-back in the midst of it, each contending with four or five of Spike's minions.

Someone screamed to his left, and he turned in time to see a vampire sink its teeth into a woman's neck. Two quick steps and a quick thrust with the stake dusted the distracted creature. _If they are all this stupid, we might have a chance_.

Pain exploded as a heavy boot caught Riley in the back of the neck, knocking him back into crowd.

"Damn slayer groupies!" he heard Spike's taunting voice through a haze of pain. By the time Riley struggled to his feet, the British vampire was gone. Shaking his head to clear it, he headed toward the centre of the fight.

By now, Faith was fighting alone, hard-pressed by six vampires, who were coming at her from all sides. The brunette lunged and staked one, but as it exploded into dust one of the others leapt for the distracted slayer's back.

Riley crash-tackled it, the impact still jarring even after years of football training. They rolled as they hit the ground, and he ended up on top. One quick thrust and the vampire was dust.

As the lights suddenly flickered back on, a strong hand hauled him to his feet. He tensed to fight, but found himself looking at Faith.

"Thanks for the save, Finn." She nodded, "you're okay." Somehow, despite the fighting, she still had her hat. She seemed almost to be enjoying herself: there was a smile playing across her face.

"Don't mention it. Where's Buffy?" The last think he wanted was Faith's gratitude.

"Kickin' ass. Like we should be." Faith nodded toward the four vampires who were slowly approaching them. With the lights back on, they had evidently become much more cautious.

The return of the lights also revealed the extent of the carnage that had occurred. Several bodies lay nearby, and there was still a great deal of screaming, suggesting further casualties. _Jesus, what a mess_. At least people now seemed to be rushing to the exits.

Faith leapt at the vampires with a yell, knocking three of them from their feet. Riley charged the last one, earning a head-ringing knock to the temple but burying his stake in the creature's chest. It snarled and pushed him back. _Damn, missed the heart_. Staggering slightly, still a little confused by the blow to the head, he ducked under the vampire's first swing, but knew it was only a matter of time before his luck ran out.

Then his opponent shattered into dust, and he found himself looking once more at Faith.

"Owed you one." She said simply, then ran toward the sounds of other fighting.

Riley clumsily picked up his fallen stake. _So now we're even again. All bets are off_.

Suddenly the crowd opened for a moment, and he saw Buffy in the midst of the vampires, spinning and fighting with reckless abandon, holding eight of the creatures at bay. Now seven, as one exploded, staked through the heart. Now six, another one slain. Now five, and Buffy was shouting in excitement, but he couldn't hear her words through the pounding in his head.

As the vampires broke and ran from the blonde slayer, Riley sank to his knees and toppled forward into unconsciousness.

Spike put his feet up on the table and drank deeply from his latest bottle of whisky.

"A grand night's work." He announced, fumbling in his pocket for a cigarette. "Confusion and dismay to our enemies, eh Harm?"

Harmony, who was still sulking about being made to stay at the lair during the attack, did not answer. However, one of the other vampires, less cowed or less prudent than the rest, scowled at Spike,

"This was your 'plan'?" he demanded in a surly tone, "We've skulked and hidden for the last _four months_ so that you could bust up a college _dance_? We lost over twenty of us, tonight, Spike. And for what? A handful of corpses? We didn't even get to _feed_."

Spike snarled and swung his feet down from the table,

"Listen, mate." He stabbed his finger at his critic, "If you have a complaint about the way I run things, you're welcome to try and replace me. But I don't think you have the balls. And until you do, you'll do as I say without arguments. Clear?"

For a moment, Harmony thought that the other vampire might actually take up Spike's challenge, and felt a surge of anticipation. But after a long moment of silence, the challenger backed down.

"I simply do not understand how tonight was a grand success." He clarified, "Perhaps you could explain?"

"It's need to know only, mate." Spike said smugly, "But I'll tell you this much: we needed the corpses we grabbed tonight for the _real_ plan. Yeah, we lost some people, but it was necessary to persuade the slayer that this was what we'd been building for." His smile broadened into a cold, hard grin, "And when the plan is complete, it'll bring us so many reinforcements that tonight's losses will seem insignificant."

"Your leader speaks the truth." Hansard's voice was as flat and dead as always as he seemingly appeared from nowhere. The only vampire not to flinch was Spike, who merely gave a sardonic smile. Harmony, to her embarrassment, actually let out a squeal.

"Who the hell are you?" demanded the surly vampire.

"My name is unimportant." Hansard turned his flat, empty eyes on the troublemaker, who took an unconscious step backward, "Suffice it to say that within a month, this town will be completely within Spike's control. You would be best not to challenge him, if you wish to live to see it."

As the vampire visibly swallowed, Hansard once more disappeared from sight.

"Alright," Spike lit his cigarette, "Show's over. Get out, the lot of you."

Wordlessly, the vampires retreated. Harmony rose to follow them, but Spike grabbed her wrist,

"Not you, Harm." He smirked, "We got some celebratin' to do."

Harmony pouted,

"How can we celebrate when you won't tell me the plan?" she complained, "You didn't even let me go, tonight."

Spike pulled her into his lap,

"Don't pout, ducks." He squeezed her thigh, "It was just as well I left you behind tonight. The little blonde bitch was cuttin' through us like cordwood. I've never seen her so fired up."

"So it wasn't the big success you said it was?" she felt a measure of satisfaction at the idea.

"Oh, I got what I needed." Spike shrugged, "I just had to pay more than I expected." He twisted his head away from her and spoke to the apparently empty room, "Thanks for your little show."

"Your gratitude is unnecessary." Hansard replied from near the door of the room, "Now, I have some business of my own to attend to. May I consider our contract terminated?"

"No problem, mate." Spike smirked, and Harmony got the feeling that Hansard's personal business was somehow to the vampire's advantage. "You have to take your prodigal daughter in hand, I know."

Faith sat on a bench near the edge of campus, staring sightlessly at the road just beyond the college grounds. It was the second day of classes, but things were pretty subdued around the place. _Four dead, two missing, twenty-eight injured_. Spike's attack had left most of the students in a state of shock. In typical Sunnydale fashion, the incident had been blamed on 'gangs from out-of-town', but that hadn't lessened the impact of the deaths.

_I should have done better_. The brunette couldn't help but feel she had failed to pull her weight in the fight. _B got _twelve_ to my six. Hell, even Beefstick got two_. Maybe if the lights had come on earlier, she would have done better. _The dark didn't seem to slow B down at all_.

It would be easy to blame Xander for the delay in the lights being restored, but she knew better. Xander hadn't said anything, but she could smell the vampire dust on him after the fight. Spike had left one of them guarding the fuse-box, and Xander had slain it. _Alone. One-on-one_. She smiled as she remembered how proud he had been after she finally dragged the truth out of him in training the day after the attack.

Suddenly, she sensed someone approaching. Recognising the person's tread and the crisp, clear scent they preferred, the slayer did not turn her head as the blonde detective took a seat next to her on the bench.

"Hi, Katie." She said quietly, feeling her heartbeat increase. _Breathe, girl. You knew this would come._

"Faith." The detective sounded subdued.

"Sorry for putting you on the spot the way I did." Faith still couldn't look at the other woman, "But we had to know about Spike, and I figured the only one likely to protect LAPD files against witchcraft was you."

She felt, rather than saw, Kate's answering nod.

"You're a smart girl, Faith. How d'you let yourself get into this mess?"

"You already know that story."

"You know I have to take you in."

"Why?" at last, she found it in her to look at the blonde detective, "The system thinks I'm dead, Katie. It doesn't want to know it's wrong. A lot of people will get hurt if you tell it."

"People get hurt every day." Kate's voice was grim, "That's _why_ we have a system."

"Kate…" Faith faltered, then pressed on, "I respect you. You know that. I like that you do what you think is right, and screw what the rest of the world says…"

"I play by the rules –"

"You play by _your_ rules." Faith told the detective frankly, "They just happen to match the official rules, most of the time. But when you and Wesley dealt with that prison guard demon, you had to bend them a bit, didn't you?"

The detective's silence was all the answer Faith needed.

"You bent the rules once, Katie. I'm asking you to do it, again."

"That was different –"

"Yeah. There was a lot less at stake." Buffy's voice cut into their conversation.

Faith turned in surprise. _I didn't have a clue she was there_.

"Hey, B. You probably shouldn't get involved in this –"

"I already am." Buffy interrupted, "If your friend here drags you back to jail then they are going to start asking questions about who helped you escape. Maybe we'll get to share a cell. The vampires of the world can have a party: both slayers locked away … must be a dream come true for them."

Kate frowned,

"You're that friend of Angel's, aren't you?" she said suddenly, "Buffy, right?"

"That's me." The blonde folded her arms, "for some reason, Faith seems to like you. Don't expect me to be so forgiving."

"B!" Faith looked at the other slayer in surprise, "You aren't helping, y'know?"

"You think I should turn my back on this?" Kate stared hard at Buffy, "Just ignore the law because now Faith is sorry for what she did? Is that it?"

"Not even close." Buffy snorted, "I think you should clear out because Faith can do a much better job of paying for her mistakes _here_ than she can in jail." She turned to the brunette, "Speaking of which, Giles wants us all at his place in half an hour. He's been talking to Angel, and they think that Spike is up to something more than just crashing a college dance."

"Just a minute –" Kate began angrily.

"Look, cop-lady." Buffy snapped, "make a choice. Either arrest us both or head back to LA. We've got bigger problems than you to deal with."

"Jesus, B!" Faith got to her feet, "Back _off_!"

The blonde gave her a surprised look,

"D'you _want_ her to take you away, Faith? You quitting on me, again?"

"No!" Faith felt a chill of shock. "Jesus. No. I don't want to leave." She turned to the detective, who was watching them both with a hard expression on her face, "I'm sorry, Kate. B's a little tense. We had a pretty bad vampire attack a couple of nights ago, and from the sound of it there's worse on the way. They really do need me to be here."

Kate stared at the brunette wordlessly for several seconds. The time seemed to creep by to Faith, who knew much it would take for the detective to turn a blind eye to her survival.

"Why did you call me?" she asked at last, her eyes only on Faith, "You had to know I would come for you."

"Yeah." Faith admitted quietly, "But we had to learn what Spike was up to." She glanced at Buffy, who was not looking at either of them, "B says this guy is really bad news, and if the thing two nights ago was just a distraction, then she's more right than you could ever know."

"So you want me to let you stay."

"Yeah." Faith brushed her hair back with her hand, "This vamp's killed two slayers before this. I need to be here to watch B's back. Please, Katie."

Kate laughed softly, mirthlessly,

"I couldn't make you come, even I wanted to, could I? I mean, I'm just human, and you two are … whatever it is you are."

"I'd let you take me." Faith shook her head.

"I wouldn't." Buffy snapped, her voice cold.

"Buffy, what the _hell_ is wrong with you?" Faith turned on the other slayer. _I am officially freaked. Giles and I are gonna talk about this_.

"Fine." Buffy threw her hands in the air, "You want to go back to jail, do it. I can handle this alone. That's how a slayer is supposed to work, anyway."

Faith sighed, realising that it was pointless to press the issue given the blonde's current mood.

"What's it gonna be, Katie?" she asked, without looking at the detective, "You want my hands behind my back for the cuffs, or what?"

"No." Kate seemed almost to have to drag the word out of her throat, "No. I get the feeling that you may be needed here just to keep your friend under control." She looked torn and unhappy as Faith sneaked a glance at her, and the brunette slayer felt a deep sense of sympathy. _Every time she thinks she's got it sorted out, her world unravels on her. I know how that feels._

"Thanks, Kate." She said, at last. "You won't regret it, I promise."

"I hope you're right." The detective laughed bitterly, "I really do."


	5. Chapter 5

**Watching Your Back (Part 5)**

**Previously ...**

Faith has returned to Sunnydale, apparently intent on reconciliation with Buffy and her friends. Torn between suspicion of the other girl and her reluctance to kill a someone who resolutely refused to fight back, Buffy has at last grown to trust Faith again, though the blonde's own behaviour seems to be increasingly erratic.

Meanwhile, Spike is seeking the Gem of Fey'R. If recovered, this item would prompt a flood of demons to come to Sunnydale. Aware only that the vampire has some plan afoot, the gang is attempting to discover what it is. Now, just as they have begun to make progress, a threat from Tara's past has suddenly arisen …

**Chapter Thirteen**

The man who called himself Hansard walked unseen through the crowds of milling shoppers. The mental discipline required to subtly steer approaching humans away from him without their ever noticing his presence helped him to focus for his upcoming task.

It had taken only a few hours to locate the renegade's home, but he had not yet made his move. It would not do to be too rash. Emotion was a dangerous influence on his mental faculties, and he must consider, plan and reflect before confronting the girl and her human lover.

Even now, the thought that one of his kind had bonded with a human caused a ripple of revulsion to run through him. But his focus held firm. It was imperative that he remain calm when he confronted the renegade. One who had defiled herself so completely would doubtless resort to any tactic to escape the prescribed punishment, and he must be careful.

Reaching the exit of Sunnydale's improbably large mall, Hansard waited patiently until a human passed close enough to activate the door's sensors, then made his way outside. His concentration had held firm throughout his passage through the crowded mall, and he had not once come close to detection. Even when he thought of the renegade, his composure remained intact.

It was time to confront her.

As he moved silently along the sidewalk, Hansard slowly began to build a pattern of defensive spells. The renegade was young, but he sensed she was powerful. Additionally, there was every chance she would resort to human magic in an attempt to thwart him. Such spells were crude, but potent. He would have to careful.

By the time he reached the house shared by the renegade and her lover, he was as prepared as he could be for the confrontation to come. Walking slowly toward the front door, he felt a moment's surprise when it opened. _Has she decided to surrender?_

Then he saw that it was the red-haired human in the doorway. _She must be about to leave_. This was unexpected good fortune. Taking the renegade would be made less complex if there were no distractions. And there was no chance that the human could know he was there.

"Come in." she said quietly, staring directly at him.

Hansard paused in surprise. _How?_

Then he saw the gossamer silver threads within the human's aura. _The renegade. A sharing_. Was there no crime to which this girl would not stoop?

Recovering his composure, he moved toward the door again. Given that the renegade had shared their heightened perceptions with her human lover, it seemed obvious that they intended to resist him. But there was no harm in accepting the invitation to enter. Unlike vampires, such words held no power over his kind.

Within, the building reeked of magic. Human Magic. It was so unlike that of his own people. So … _obvious_. He could literally smell it: pungent and all pervasive. Not unpleasant, as such, but impossible to ignore.

"Where is she?" he asked the human as she closed the door.

"I am here, Elder." The renegade stepped into the hallway from a neighbouring room. Her voice was soft, hesitant, warm. _Human_. Hansard suppressed a feeling of distaste. When he replied, his own tones were as empty and dead as always,

"You know why I am here. You have broken our most sacred laws."

The renegade nodded. Like himself, she was wreathed in spells. Unlike him, many of them used human magic. _Strong indeed_. The bright colours swirled around her, too numerous and vivid to easily discern.

"Do you have an explanation?" he asked. There could be no explanation, no defence. They both knew that. But the question was required. It was the way.

"I love her." The renegade answered as the redhead moved to stand beside her. The two girls joined hands almost unconsciously. Hansard realised with growing irritation that they wore matching silver rings on their left hands.

"You defend yourself against your crimes by admitting to a greater one?" even as he said the words, he realised they were a mistake. They carried an unmistakable tinge of anger.

"Be careful, Elder." The blonde smiled slightly, "Emotion is for h-humans."

_Focus_. He calmed himself, the process familiar, comfortable.

"You endanger us all." He stated, "It cannot be allowed."

"How are you in danger?" the redhead interceded. She spoke without any attempt to conceal her own anger; a luxury of being human. "What Tara does is her own business."

"You have no part in this." He answered coldly, "it is not your affair."

"It's more mine than yours." The human's tone was as cold as his own, "You have no right to try and control Tara."

"She is one of us." His patience was frayed, but he persevered. It would be better to avoid violence with the human if at all possible.

"I don't care if she is your long lost daughter." The redhead placed her free hand on her hip, a resolute expression on her face. "I won't let you take her."

"You should stay out of our affairs, human. As we stay out of yours."

"_You_ stay out?" the human exclaimed, "How? You help vampires and demons to spy on us!"

"Our impact is minimal."

"People _die_!"

He shook his head,

"That is just change. _You_ have a soul. You are eternal. For us, there is only oblivion."

A stricken expression came over the human's face, and she turned to look at the renegade. The blonde nodded silently.

"God." The redhead actually looked at him with sympathy, "That's horrible."

"That is why we must remain in secret." He addressed his words to them both, but his eyes were on the renegade, "If we displease the Goddess, or alert the humans to our presence, then our people will be destroyed. Will you risk that, solely for your own happiness?"

His words were having an impact, he could tell. After her time among the humans, the renegade could not longer control herself as well as she should. He could see the doubt and confusion in her eyes. _Perhaps she will see reason, after all_.

"There must be something else you can do." The human insisted.

"No. There is no alternative."

"There are _always_ alternatives!" she snapped, "And we _will_ find them."

He sighed. For a moment, he had thought he might persuade them. Without bothering to reply, he began to craft a spell to bind them.

They reacted instantly, raising their voices in a retaliatory spell, hands still clasped together. He began to realise that they were more prepared than he had expected.

Moments later, he realised that his own spell was not coalescing properly. Something seemed to be interfering with it, slowing the formation of the weave. He frowned. _What could it be?_

Too late, the explanation occurred to him. His spell collapsed as he turned his attention to the house around him. Sharpening his focus, he saw beyond the vivid scents and colours of the human magic to the delicate spell behind it.

But by then, the cage was closed.

"Impressive." He acknowledged, examining the now evident spell that had entrapped him. "I underestimated you, renegade."

The blonde shook her head,

"It was Willow's idea."

He glanced at the human, who gave him a smug look in return.

"I should have expected that you would share our magical skills with her." He conceded, "You have broken so many other laws, why not this as well?"

"Perhaps you should be more polite, given your circumstances." The redhead had evidently overcome her earlier sympathy for him.

"There seems little point." He observed, "You must intend to kill me, anyway."

To his surprise, they both shook their heads,

"We'd prefer to m-make a deal." The renegade answered, almost timidly.

Xander and Anya were already at Giles' apartment when the two slayers arrived. The walk over from the college had been somewhat strained, with neither of them sure what to say in the aftermath of the heated conversation with Detective Lockley.

As Buffy and Faith took seats in well-separated chairs, Giles came through from the kitchen and placed a tea tray on the low-set table.

"Ooh," Xander rubbed his hands together. "Ya gotta love a catered Scooby meet. And such an adventurous spread, too … tea … fruit cake…" he paused, "Cheese?"

"You eat it with the fruit cake." Giles explained, pouring himself a cup of tea.

Buffy wrinkled her nose,

"That has to be a English thing." She complained, "Like haggis."

"What _is_ haggis?" Faith asked, tentatively trying a piece of fruit cake with cheese. _Not bad_.

"Well for one thing, it's Scottish" Giles set his tea on the table and picked up a large, leather-bound book, "Haggis is made from sheep's offal and oatmeal, and is cooked in the sheep's stomach. It's considered something of a delicacy. Rather like blood pudding." He smiled, as if in fond remembrance.

"I'd just like to take this opportunity to say 'yuck'." Buffy pulled a face.

"Yeah," Xander quipped, "Can we talk about something less disturbing? Like vampires?"

"Indeed." Giles opened the book and spread it on the table in front of him, "I spoke to Angel this afternoon. He has been looking into some information given to him by … well, he actually didn't say who told him."

Faith grinned to herself, sure she knew who had helped Angel. _Way to go, Katie. I owe you._

"So what do we know?" Xander sat forward to peer at the book, "Woah. Personal hygiene alert. That is one _ugly_ dude."

"This is Paolo Wurth." Giles tapped the photograph at which Xander had been looking, "He's a vampire, turned around 1945. Apparently Spike met with Wurth on his recent trip to Los Angeles."

Buffy stood and peered over his shoulder at the picture,

"I agree with Xander." She remarked, "What vamp in their right mind turned _him_?"

"It appears that his sire was Drusilla."

"Well that answers _that_ question." Buffy dropped back into her chair, putting her feet on the table as she did so. "So who is this Wurst guy?"

"Paolo _Wurth_," Giles corrected, _tsk_ing in the back of his throat at Buffy's shoes, "was a Swiss black marketeer during the Second World War. He made a great deal of money selling guns to the French and Yugoslav resistance forces."

"So he was a good guy?" Faith asked, fighting the urge to copy Buffy's feet-on-table comfort, "the French _were_ on our side, right?"

"Mr Wurth traded with anyone who could pay for his goods." Giles clarified, "he sold information and materials to the Germans, as well. He was absolutely amoral, as far as I can see."

Faith frowned. _Drusilla_.

"Wasn't she Spike's chick?" she blurted, "Drusilla, I mean."

"Yeah." Buffy mumbled, playing with the buttons on her coat, "At least until he helped me kill Angellus. She hasn't been seen since."

"It's just that Angel once told me that Spike always killed any vampires that Drusilla sired." Faith explained, feeling uncomfortable to realise that Angel had shared something with her that he had evidently not told Buffy.

"Spike always was the jealous type." Xander remarked, offering a piece of fruit cake to Anya. The girl shook her head, her eyes on Faith.

_Speaking of jealous_. The brunette suppressed an urge to smirk. _Xander's got his work cut out with that one_. The moment Anya looked away from her, she caught Xander's eye and silently mouthed the word "whipped". He had the decency to flush.

"Well, it seems he made an exception in this case." Giles noted, "Since he is evidently aware of Wurth's survival."

"Either that, or he has really bad eyesight." Xander grinned, "which might be an advantage when talking to this guy."

"Quite." Giles sighed. "Now, Angel wasn't able to get to Wurth himself, but he was able to locate one of Wurth's minions and…" he paused, as if looking for the right term.

"Beat the crap out of them?" Faith suggested helpfully, grabbing another piece of cake and cheese.

"_Interrogate_ him." the Englishman gave the brunette a pained look. "It seems that Spike hired a spy of some sort –"

"Probably that invisible guy from the last meeting!" Xander exclaimed.

"Congratulations, honey." Anya gave him an affectionately scornful look, "it's good to see you're on the same page as everyone else."

There was a knock at the door, and Riley let himself inside the apartment.

"Sorry I'm late," he greeted them, "I had a class to take and couldn't get away. What have we learned?"

Buffy hopped out of her chair to kiss the sandy-haired former commando.

"Spike met a really ugly vampire in LA and hired a spy from him." She shrugged, "How ya been?"

"Good. Fully recovered." He smiled softly at her, his arms around her waist.

"_So_." Faith said, a little too loudly, "did Angel say anything else?"

"Yes." Giles nodded as Riley sat down in the chair Buffy had vacated. The blonde slayer swung herself into his lap, her feet dangling over the edge of the chair. "Spike also purchased the eyes of a Taladarm demon."

"Lovely." Buffy wrinkled her nose again, "The significance being?"

"Taladarm eyes are only useful in spells to locate missing objects." Giles explained, "Which means that Spike is looking for something."

"You need to soak Taladar eyes in blood, first." Anya in a conversational tone, "for about two weeks." She paused as she realised that everyone was looking at her. "What? I used to be a vengeance demon, remember? I know spell stuff."

"The attack on the dance." Faith murmured.

"What about it?" Xander asked.

"There were two students missing, right?" the brunette said, "we figured they'd been taken for turning. What if they were taken for their blood?"

"That would mean we know when Spike would be ready to go after this item." Giles mused.

"Which means we can be ready for him to make his move." Riley nodded, "when he won't expect us to be."

"Sure." Faith said with an edge of sarcasm, "Except that we don't know what he's looking for, or where he might find it."

"It'll be in a crypt." Xander said morosely, "These magic doodads always are."

"Which would be helpful, if we were anywhere but on the hellmouth." Anya shrugged, "But this is crypt central."

Faith frowned. The beginnings of an idea were beginning to form at the back of her mind.

"Spike's no fool, right?" she asked, glancing around.

"If he was, we'd be doing a much better job of kicking his ass." Xander shrugged.

"You should have staked him when he couldn't bite people." Anya glowered at Buffy. The blonde ignored her, her mind seemingly elsewhere.

"Then he's not going to risk us stumbling over him while he grabs whatever it is he's looking for." Faith rubbed her hands on her thighs as she thought things through, "Which means he'll try to lure us away with a distraction. Then, when he knows we're occupied -"

"He'll go after the doodad?" Xander gave her a surprised look, "Y'know, that actually makes a kind of sense."

"How does it help us?" Riley asked, his hand gently running up and down Buffy's arm.

"Spike's gonna have to be at the diversion." Faith explained, "so he can be sure we're properly distracted before he makes his _real_ move. As soon as he's convinced of that, he'll bail."

"So?" Anya gave Faith a dark look.

"So he stages his diversion, and B and I go in to stop it." Faith explained, "As soon as he knows we're occupied, Spike leaves. As soon as he does, you guys, Red and blondie all pile in to the fight. Between you, you should be able to take enough vamps off B's back that she can go after Spike. We deal with the diversion while B stakes Bloody William. Problem solved."

"Why does Buffy have to go after Spike?" Riley challenged her, "are you scared?"

Faith favoured him with a scornful look,

"Nothin' I'd like more than to take on Spikey-boy." She snorted, "But I figure you guys will be more comfortable if B is the one you have to rely on, right?"

Evidently, no-one felt comfortable answering the question. Faith nodded.

"I thought so."

The phone rang suddenly. Giles answered it with an expression that looked suspiciously like relief.

"Hello? Oh, Willow. You _what_? Are you okay?" he paused, apparently listening. Occasionally he would nod, as if Willow could see him. "Yes, I will. Thank you. Yes, as soon as you can. And Willow? Please don't do anything like that again."

He hung up.

"What's the news?" Buffy asked, her attention apparently once more on the meeting.

"Willow and Tara have captured the spy." Giles took off his glasses and polished them, a clear indication that he was upset. "It was an extremely reckless thing for them to do."

_Way to go, Red and blondie_. Faith leaned forward,

"Did they learn anything from him?"

"Yes." Giles nodded, "It seems Spike is after an item known as the Gem of Fey'R. Willow and Tara are on their way over to discuss our next move. At the moment, I think that Faith's plan is our best option."

_Faith's plan_. The brunette grinned. _I like the sound of that_.

"I'm not so sure." Riley said slowly, earning a glare from the dark-haired slayer. "I mean, the basic idea seems sound, but I don't think Xander and Anya should be there. Maybe not Willow or Tara, either. They could be hurt."

"Hey!" Xander protested, "No way I'm staying on the bench for this!"

"It might be a good idea." Anya argued, "We aren't really equipped for this."

"I can look after myself." Xander maintained, "And you can help Will and Tara. After all, you know spell stuff, right?"

"I still don't think you –" Riley began.

"He can handle it." Faith snapped, earning a surprised but grateful look from Xander and a hostile one from Riley. "Fact is, we'll need everyone we can get, for this."

Giles, who had been flipping urgently through one of his books, suddenly exclaimed in excitement.

"I knew it!"

"What's up, G-man?" Faith asked the ex-Watcher.

"The Gem of Fey'R." Giles ran his finger across the open page, "It's an artefact which is sacred to the Jeneth demons. I know I've got them cross-referenced somewhere…" he began flipping through another book. "Yes! Here!"

Twisting the book around, he showed the group a charcoal drawing of a leathery-skinned demon. It had quite nondescript features. Except for the heavily seamed skin, hairless skull and somewhat feline eyes, it could probably have passed for human.

"Doesn't look like much." Faith observed, "What are they like?"

Giles span the book around in his hands and reviewed the text,

"It says here that they are organised, cultured and intelligent."

"Sounds pretty harmless, so far." Buffy remarked, "What would Spike want with them?"

"They are also ruthless, sadistic and cruel."

"Oh."

"And … oh dear." Giles abruptly fell silent.

"What?" Faith demanded, impatiently.

"They were cast out of the demonic planes over a thousand years ago for losing the Gem. It is like a Holy Grail to them. If it is found here, Jeneth demons from all over the world will converge on Sunnydale."

"We can deal with a few demons." Buffy shrugged.

"A few, yes." Giles agreed, "But this could be hundreds. Even worse, they would be willing to do almost anything Spike wanted in order to get the Gem."

"Wouldn't they just take it off him?" Faith asked, "Hell, I would."

Giles shook his head,

"The Jeneth take their debts very seriously."

"So Spike would have his own demon army." The brunette said slowly.

"In a nutshell, yes."

"But these guys aren't so tough, right?" Xander asked hopefully, "I mean, they lost the Gem in the first place…"

"In the demon orders, they are quite lowly placed." Giles conceded, "But unlike most of the other demons we've fought, they are almost untainted with mortal blood."

"So they're strong." Buffy said, apparently unconcerned.

"Very strong." The Englishman agreed quietly, "And very fast. And very resilient. Individually, the stronger among them are a match for a slayer. In groups…" he trailed off, evidently feeling that his sentence did not require completion.

Faith shrugged,

"Only one thing for it, then." She gave them her best cocky grin. "Make sure Spike doesn't get that doodad."

Buffy stood at the end of the street, scanning the road with a frustrated expression. It had been a week since they discovered Spike's plan. That meant he was likely to make his move in only a few days. In the mean time, she and Faith continued to patrol, and continued to find nothing.

"All this waiting is really beginning to tick me off." She muttered.

"Me too." Faith appeared out of the darkness, twirling a stake in her fingers, "Just a couple of blocks to go. You want to Bronze it, afterward?"

"Actually, I thought I'd do the Riley thing." Buffy glanced at the brunette, "Dancing just isn't doing it for me, any more, y'know?"

Faith shrugged as they moved on to the next street,

"I should probably get an early night, anyway." She mumbled, "Got a lot of classes tomorrow. Starting with Computers for Morons."

Buffy grinned. Faith's trepidation about her _Business Computing_ subject had rapidly turned into scorn for the class.

"See? I said you could deal with college."

"Yeah. Well, Jesus, some of these kids seem worried the damn things will bite them."

"Whereas you never felt intimidated." the blonde observed drolly.

"So you and Riley are getting along pretty well?" Faith asked, pointedly ignoring her comment.

"Yeah." Buffy thrust her hands into her coat pockets, "He's pretty busy with classes, but we make up for it when we get together."

"More information than I needed." Faith glanced around the street, "Speaking of classes … you've been cutting a few."

"They were boring."

"B, this is only the second week of term. How would you know if they were boring yet?"

Buffy shrugged,

"I'm just really restless." She glowered at the empty street, "I wish Spike would make his move already."

"The thing about evil vampires is that they tend to make their own timetables." Faith frowned, "Which, given the scheduling of some of my classes, makes me wonder about our faculty."

Buffy favoured the joke with a distracted smile as they reached the end of the last street in their sweep.

"Well, that's it for another night." Faith slid her stake back inside her jacket, "Should I expect you back at the room late, or not at all?"

"Probably." Buffy wasn't really listening to the question. The frustration of another incident-free patrol was wearing on her nerves, and even the thought of being with Riley wasn't enough to temper her rising urge to slay something. Glancing around, she suddenly recognised the neighbourhood. _Well, I've really been distracted_. A smile flickered around the edge of her lips. Perhaps her problem could be solved with a little creativity.

"Look, I don't have any early classes, so I'm going to just check a couple more streets before I go to Riley's." She said to Faith, "You head back."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." She gave the brunette slayer what she hoped was a perky smile, "I shouldn't be too late tonight, 'kay?"

"Okay." Faith looked a little suspicious, but to Buffy's relief she didn't pursue it, "I'll see you when you get in."

"Yeah. Night."

"Night." The brunette turned and began to walk back to the campus.

Buffy watched the other slayer until she had disappeared into the next street, then turned and hurried two blocks eastward. _Willy's Place. I should have thought of this before_.

Moments later, she clattered down the stairs and into the dimly lit bar, swinging the door firmly closed behind her after she had entered. At the sound of the door shutting, Willy glanced over at her.

"Evening, _Slayer_." He said in a loud voice. Of the bar's four customers, two rose as if to leave. However, instead of moving to the bar, Buffy planted herself in front of the door,

"Sit down." She glared at the pair who had risen to leave. Silently, they complied.

"What's this about, Slayer?" Willy asked nervously, "I already told you I don't know anything about what Spike is up to."

"Yeah. I remember." Buffy didn't bother to look at the sweating barkeep. Instead, she took two small paces forward and raked her eyes contemptuously over the four now-anxious customers. _Lower order demons. Not much challenge, but it'll do._ "This is how it works. In about five seconds, I'm going to start kicking the hell out of all four of you. You've got that long to get ready. If anyone goes for the door, I'll break his legs."

For a long moment, all four stared at her as if they couldn't quite believe what she was saying. She smiled back, letting the edge of her rage show in the expression. _That_ evidently persuaded them, because in the next instant they were up and charging her, grabbing bottles and chairs as weapons on the way.

Buffy ducked smoothly under a wild blow from the lead demon, then drove her forearm into its face. The creature fell backwards, rolled, and staggered to its feet again. The blonde had already moved on, kicking the second demon in the back of the knee. As she did, the third smashed a chair across her back, knocking her sideways over a table.

Rolling smoothly to her feet, the slayer smirked at the demons and wiped the back of her hand across her lip.

"That all you got?" The four didn't answer, and she saw that at least one was edging toward to door. "None of that, now." Buffy shook her head, "We're only just getting started."

Leaping forward, the slayer plunged once more into the melee. The rush of battle overtook her, and she whirled amidst the four, striking them with her feet, elbows, hands and knees. Their retaliatory blows seemed ineffectual, trivial. _It's been too long_.

And then, as suddenly as it began, the fight was over. Buffy found herself standing alone in the middle of the room, four unconscious demons sprawled on the floor. From somewhere behind the bar, she could hear Willy quivering.

"Wimps." She kicked one of the demons in disgust. It didn't even groan.

Hopping up onto the bar, Buffy grabbed a metal ashtray and dumped the contents, then examined herself in the reflective surface. Her hair was a mess, and someone had scratched her across one cheek. It was deep enough to bleed, but it wouldn't scar. Her left eye was going to shine up a beauty though, at least for an hour or so. _Thank goodness for slayer healing_.

"Willy?"

There was a timid moan from under the bar.

"Gimme a beer."

In the end, she had three beers, drinking straight from the bottle, her feet dangling over the bar. The first demon crawled out after about thirty minutes. By the time her eye was returning to its normal colour, the second was stirring.

"One more for the road, Willy."

Wordlessly, he passed her a fresh bottle. She hadn't offered to pay, and he was evidently too scared to ask. _As he should be_.

Reaching out suddenly, she grabbed Willy by the collar of his shirt and dragged him close to her. He looked ready to faint.

"Thanks for showing me such a good time." She grinned, and kissed him hard on the lips.

He almost yelped, his eyes widening in shock, before she shoved him away and slid off the bar.

_Now_ she was in the mood to see Riley.

Angel lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling.

Beside him, Darla stirred and opened her eyes. The way her blonde hair spread over the pillow reminded him of Buffy. A lot of things about her reminded him of the slayer. _Mainly how much I miss her_.

"Morning." He said quietly, as she slid closer to him in the bed, her teeth nipping at his shoulder.

"Is it?" she asked, her eyebrows lifting.

"About an hour until dawn." He began to sit up, but Darla placed a hand on his chest.

"You have somewhere to be, lover?"

He frowned.

"Not particularly, but I thought you would want to leave soon."

"Still hiding me from your little friends?" she laughed softly, "They must have realised, Angel. They can't be that stupid."

"Having them know and rubbing it in their faces are two different things." He did sit up this time, looking down at her as she lay in the bed. She looked back at him, her eyes half-closed, a faint smile on her lips. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" she seemed genuinely unsure of his question.

"Coming to see me." He gestured vaguely. "Wolfram and Hart restored you to tempt me into evil. Why have you stopped?"

"Who says I have?" she gave him a smouldering smile.

"_Darla_." He frowned, not in the mood to be teased.

She shrugged,

"You're very handsome." Her fingertips gently stroked his arm.

"That isn't enough." He caught her hand in his, "You stalked the world for four hundred years, and now you turn your back on that just to share my bed?"

"I haven't turned my back on anything -"

"When was the last time you fed from a human?" he challenged her.

Darla lowered her gaze,

"You know when." She looked away.

"Cordelia." He breathed, his suspicion confirmed. "That's almost six months, Darla. I never knew you to go more than a few days, before. What changed?"

"_You_ did." She looked back at him suddenly, and he couldn't tell if it was rage or fear or love he saw in her eyes. "I never thought you would hurt me. But you did. You _staked_ me for that … that girl."

"Buffy?"

"Yes. The _slayer_, of all things." Her tone was both bitter and amused. "But I know what happened afterwards, Angel. I know that you can never be with her."

"But you think I can be with you?"

"Would it be so bad?"

"It can't work, for the same reasons Buffy and I didn't. I _kill_ our kind, Darla."

"You haven't killed me. This time, anyway."

"I should have." He looked away from her, "Sooner or later you'll grow tired of waiting for me, and you'll start to feed again."

"Perhaps," such a familiar tone, at once little girl and seductress, "but I'm older than you, my love. And I have a great deal of patience."

"Is that was this is about?" he turned back to watch her eyes, "You think I'll lose my soul again?"

Darla smiled, her hand caressing the side of his neck,

"All it takes is _one_ moment," she murmured, "if you forget yourself for even an instant, I will have my Angellus again. And I am very good at making you forget, aren't I, my love?"

He growled in the back of his throat and pushed her back on the bed, his hands in her hair. Their mouths met, briefly, teeth scraping at one another's lips.

"It's _not_ going to happen." He breathed the words into her mouth.

She chuckled,

"We'll see."

And then there was no more need for words.

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Well?" Spike demanded, his limited patience all but exhausted.

Aleister nodded excitedly,

"The Gem is to the east of here." He announced, "Not more than two miles distant."

Spike smiled,

"That puts it somewhere in the town limits." he didn't try to conceal his self-satisfaction, "now explain how this gizmo of yours is supposed to work."

"It's quite simple," Aleister explained, lifting the silvery cube for Spike to examine, "the Taladarm eyes; plus several other ingredients; have been placed within this device. You notice that it has been decorated on each face with runes of detection and searching -"

"What are you, a bloody Watcher?" Spike snapped, "How do I use it?"

"The runes on the face closest to the Gem will glow." Aleister swallowed nervously, "the brighter they glow, the closer you are."

Spike took the box and turned it over in his hands, watching the glow move smoothly from face to face of the cube. Currently, the light they gave off was the colour of fresh blood. _Appropriate_.

"It'll do." He conceded, "What's the maximum range?"

"About ten miles," Aleister said, uncertainly, "but the Gem is much closer than that."

"Yeah, but if someone else makes one of these little toys," Spike shook the box casually, enjoying the way Aleister flinched as he did so, "then I want to know what sort of detection range they'll have with it."

"Oh. I hadn't thought of that."

"Which is why _you_ work for _me_." Spike assured the other vampire calmly.

He turned to the only other vampire present in the room, a stocky Cuban whose real name he had never bothered to learn,

"Go tell the others to be get ready, Fidel." He slipped the cube into his jacket pocket, pulling out his crumpled packet of cigarettes as he did so. "We move tonight."

As he lit the cigarette, Spike allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. _The slayers won't know what's hit 'em_.

A dark shape ducked back into an alleyway half a block ahead of the slayers.

Faith slowed to a stop.

"Vampire?" she said casually, putting her hands on her hips.

"Vampire." Buffy agreed, stopping beside her. "Furtive, much?"

"You think it's our boy?" the brunette drawled, resuming her slow walk toward the alleyway.

"Who else?" the shorter slayer had to take three steps for every two of Faith's, but somehow seemed in even less of a hurry, "Two weeks without even a sniff of a vamp, and now three near-sightings in one night. Spike must be ready to make his move."

"Are we?"

"We are." Buffy produced a small transitter, turned it on, then slipped it into the pocket of her jacket. "The others will know that things are about to start, now. And they can track us with the receiver."

"Where'd you get the high tech stuff?" Faith asked, peering into the alleyway.

"Riley still has some commando gear left over from the Initiative." The blonde brushed past her, "You see? He does have his uses."

"I know _exactly_ what use you see him for." Faith said, with a sly grin.

Buffy shrugged, evidently unembarrassed by the innuendo,

"You know how slaying is."

_Hungry and horny_. It was time to change the topic of conversation. Giles still wasn't able to explain Buffy's changed behaviour. _I wish Tara and Red had been able to help_. Unfortunately, the two wicca had to divert a lot of their strength to imprisoning the spy they had captured. It was limiting their ability to investigate what was going on with the blonde slayer.

_And talking to B doesn't help. She doesn't even see that she's changed._

"So are they still leading us west?"

"Yeah," Buffy clambered over the fence at the end of the alleyway, then waited for Faith to follow.

"You know Sunnydale better than me. What's out this way?"

"We're about half a mile from the docks." Buffy brushed back her hair, scanning the street they had just entered, "it's mainly factories and warehouses around here."

"Prime vampire real estate," Faith noted dryly, "There!" she pointed in time for Buffy to spot the dark figures entering a warehouse some fifty yards away.

"Looks like we're about to spring Spike's trap." The blonde remarked, drawing a stake from inside her jacket.

"Looks like." Faith agreed, spinning her own stake in her fingers.

They walked slowly toward the warehouse, keeping away from the few streetlights.

"You ready for this?" Buffy asked, resting her hand on the handle of the warehouse door.

"You know me, B." Faith grinned, "Five by five."

The blonde thrust open the door and they plunged inside.

Within, the warehouse was shadowy. A few fluorescent lights were spaced at wide intervals across the exposed rafters, but less than half were working. Thankfully, what would have been disturbingly gloomy for normal humans was par for the course for slayers.

"Nice place." Faith joked, scanning the piles of rusty machinery.

"Renovator's dream." The other slayer agreed, her boots kicking up small clouds of dust on the floor. "Looks like it has a rat problem, though." she indicated a set of footprints leading into the depths of the building.

They moved forward, not straying more than a few feet away from each other. If they got separated in the maze of boxes and machinery there could be no guarantee of finding one another again, quickly.

"I hope the others can find their way through all this junk." Faith murmured, "how long do you think it will take them to get here, anyway?"

"We can't be more than five minutes from Giles' place." Buffy shrugged and spoke in a normal tone of voice, seemingly oblivious to the trap they were deliberately walking into, "Sunnydale isn't that big, and the roads are quiet this time of night."

"I hope so." The brunette confessed.

"You're nervous?" Buffy raised her eyebrows, "What happened to the girl who always charged in?"

"A lot."

The blonde nodded, conceding the point. Moments later, they emerged from amidst the machinery to find a short iron staircase leading down into a spacious loading bay.

Spike stood in the centre of the bay, flanked by over thirty vampires. Many carried weapons: knives, clubs or chains. Beyond the crowd were two garage-sized roll-a-doors.

"Evening, darlin'." The British vampire greeted Buffy jauntily, "you brought the substitute slayer, I see. And I thought this would be a private party."

"This from the guy who invited thirty guests." Faith jumped lightly down onto the concrete. Her blonde companion made no answer, but joined the brunette in the bay.

Spike shrugged,

"What can I say? Gatecrashers are always a problem."

Buffy charged.

For a second, Faith was caught flat-footed by the blonde's unexpected action. Then, with a curse, she leapt after the other slayer. _Dammit, B_. _The more time we wasted on the 'tough talk', the quicker the others would have been here._

There did seem to be advantages to Buffy's direct approach. The blonde's opening strike had been so unexpected that Spike had only narrowly dodged it, and Buffy had slain the two vampires directly behind him before any of the others could even react.

_Which still leaves the odds at fifteen-to-one_. Faith came in low, sweeping out the legs of a female vampire. She struck an overhand blow to the fallen vamp's chest, then surged to her feet as it dusted beside her. Her rising stake caught a second vampire under the ribcage, dusting it as well.

The brunette was just feeling a moment of satisfaction when a heavy iron chain slapped into her arm, tangling it. The attacking vamp pulled strongly, almost yanking her from her feet. Faith braced herself and pulled back, but that just locked them in position. A baseball bat caught her across the back of the shoulders.

_Lucky it wasn't your head, moron. Keep moving!_ Suddenly relaxing her arm, the slayer let the vampire haul her forward, then jabbed him sharply in the face. He staggered and released the chain. Moments later he was dust.

Two more vampires barrelled into her, slamming her into the corrugated iron wall of the loading bay.

"That _hurt._" she snarled, driving her forearm into the face of the left-hand vamp. Its grip loosened, and Faith twisted out of her jacket, leaving the vampires holding nothing but denim.

Kicking a knife-wielding vampire in the chest, the brunette looked around rapidly for her fellow slayer. Buffy was in the midst of more than a dozen vampires, a wide, feral smile on her face.

_Well at least B is enjoying herself_. Faith sprinted out of the knot of vampires that were closing in on her, and leapt up onto the short iron staircase. _Damn it, there are too many_.

Two vampires leapt up onto the platform on either side of the staircase whilst three more approached her from the front. Seeing the vulnerability of her position, Faith threw herself forward, knocking one of the vampires from its feet. Rolling quickly, she felt something strike a glancing blow on her arm, while a chain slapped into the concrete beside her head.

Flexing her numbed fingers, the slayer scrambled to her feet, absorbing a kick to the thigh as she did so. A backhand blow staggered the closest vampire, but more were already encircling her. Shifting her weight, the brunette suddenly turned and took two quick steps toward one of the vampires. It recoiled, and she threw her weight forward, driving a hole in the circle. Momentarily free, Faith plunged onward, racing toward the wall of the bay.

The vampires followed in a clump, spread out just enough to box her in against the wall. _Not gonna happen, deadbeats_. Faith leapt, thrusting her leg against one of the main pillars, then threw herself into a back-flip that carried her over the heads of her pursuers.

Landing lightly, she kicked one of the surprised vamps in the back of the knee, then staked him cleanly as his leg folded beneath him.

Something slashed her arm, and the brunette jerked sideways, straight into the arms of a big, strong vampire. _Damn. Blind-sided_. He grabbed her and began to squeeze, his breath cold and foul on her cheek.

Faith snapped back her head, hearing the bone and cartilage in his nose shatter under the blow. A stamp of her heel onto his instep and she was free. Surrounded again, but free.

Arms spread, trying to ignore the blood trickling down onto her hand, Faith turned slowly, holding back the six vampires around her by sheer force of the cocky grin on her face. It wouldn't stop them for long, she knew, but it gave her a moment to look around.

Buffy was still surrounded, but seemed to be holding her own quite successfully. _Better than me, anyway. Where's Spike?_

She found him at the last moment; ducking out through the open vehicle doors, obviously satisfied that the slayers were occupied. _Shit. Where are the others?_

As if on cue, Riley and Xander burst out of the machinery, leapt into the bay while still at a full run, and charged the vampires surrounding Buffy. Moments later, the three girls appeared, forming a small circle and chanting. A grim-faced Giles stood guard over them, a stake and a cross in his hands.

One of the vamps surrounding Faith half-turned to look at the newcomers, and she used the distraction to slam her foot into his shin. There was a satisfying _crack_, and the vampire tumbled sideways, moaning.

"Yeah, I _bet_ it hurt, you undead son-of-a-bitch." She mocked, spinning her stake and stepping back again. _Keep 'em distracted. Keep 'em _here. One of the others growled, but she just laughed, her eyes on the fight surrounding Buffy.

Xander and Riley had caught the vampires by surprise, slaying two and drawing off two more, with whom they were now desperately fighting. _Just a little more and B will be clear_. Light flashed suddenly from the three chanting girls. It splashed over a vampire, which screamed, bursting into flames. An opening appeared in the vampire lines.

"Go, B! Now!" Faith yelled, then staggered as a blow caught her left side. She swore and lashed out blindly, her eyes still on Buffy. _Go. Please. Go_. Another blow, this time from the right.

For a moment, she saw Buffy look at the gap. For a moment, the blonde half stepped toward it. Then, with a howl, Buffy whirled and leapt into the thick of the vampires.

"No!" Faith screamed, feeling strong hands grabbing at her but not able to care. "No, B! Go after Spike! He's getting away!"

Then something struck her head, and her vision blurred.

"No, B! Go after Spike! He's getting away!"

Riley heard Faith's urgent shout and risked a glance at the blonde slayer. To his shock, she had ignored the chance to pursue Spike, instead leaping back into the fight.

His vampire lunged at him, and he twisted aside, grabbing it by the shirt and helping it on his way as he did so.

A rapid glance at the large doors through which Spike had retreated and he saw that they were slowly rolling shut. For the moment, he was the only one free. It couldn't be more than a few seconds before both doors would be closed.

He ran, throwing himself flat to roll under the closing door. As he rose to his feet, he heard something collide heavily with the other side.

Riley scanned the street quickly, looking for the bleached blonde vampire. _There_. Spike was hurrying along the sidewalk, already a full block away. _It's all up to you, Finn_. He broke into a run, his booted feet sounding loud as they pounded into the concrete.

The British vampire turned to face him whilst he was still twenty yards away. Riley pulled up quickly, sizing up his opponent and taking a moment to regain his breath.

"Well, if it isn't GI Joe." Spike smiled unpleasantly, "Come to do what a slayer can't, hero?"

"Come to do what needs to be done." Riley lowered himself into a crouch, gripping his stake tightly, "I've dealt with your type before."

Spike's smile broadened, and he laughed mockingly,

"You think staking a few cubs impresses me? I've killed two slayers, boy. You've never dealt with anything like me."

Riley shrugged,

"Big talk from Hostile 17."

Spike's smile twisted, then took on an air of anticipation. Then he attacked.

Riley was driven back by the initial impact. Spike was strong. And _fast_. Much faster than he had expected. Grunting with the effort, he ripped out of the vampire's grip, lashing out with his stake as he did so. Spike dodged the blow, a smile still pulling at his lips.

Breathing deeply, Riley circled slowly. Spike turned as he did so, always facing him.

"Getting tired?" the vampire taunted, "I've had deodorants with more staying power than you."

Riley didn't answer. Mid-combat banter had never been his strong point.

Instead, he lunged forward, thrusting with the stake. Spike twisted aside of the blow, striking Riley's elbow as he did so. The stake slipped from his suddenly numbed fingers. Moments later, the British vampire threw him bodily into a nearby wall.

Sucking in gulps of air, Riley narrowly dodged a kick that had been aimed at his head, and drew a fresh stake with his left hand. It was normally his weaker hand, but he didn't have proper feeling in the fingers of his right arm.

Spike shook his head,

"You still don't get it, do you?" he seemed relaxed, totally at ease, "You're gonna _die_, mate. The only reason that it won't be slow and painful is that I have a package to collect."

"We'll see." Riley lunged forward again, receiving a stinging blow to the head as he did so. His own blow went well wide. Then Spike's hands grabbed the back of his jacket and the vampire slammed him into the wall. He heard, but did not feel, his forehead collide with the brickwork. _Not good_. Something hot and sticky was dripping down his face.

Keeping him pinned to the wall, Spike prised the stake from his fingers.

"I could turn you, now." He murmured into Riley's ear. The ex-commando tried to struggle, but his limbs seemed heavy and weak, "Give the little blonde bitch a real treat. But what's the point? You won't be the first boyfriend she's helped me kill."

Riley felt himself being pulled around, so that his back was to the wall. He tried to focus on Spike, but his vision kept slipping in and out of darkness.

Then he felt a sudden pressure on his chest. For a moment, there was pain, so far away he might have imagined it. Then he just felt cold. He slid to his knees, dimly hearing Spike speak,

"Never send a boy to do a slayer's job."

And then the final darkness claimed Riley Finn.

----------

She howled, a deep note of mixed rage and pleasure, then hurled herself into the knot of vampires. Dimly, she was aware of others fighting the prey. Her prey. She ignored them, her whole being focussed on the task she had made for. _Slaying_. She could feel the power in her, her strength and speed greater than they had ever been in the past.

The undead fell before her, one after another, as the rising tide of the battle burned within her. This was so much better than a single kill in a graveyard, or slaying a handful of newborn. Her vision was flooded with red, yet totally clear. Wherever she moved, vampires died.

She could sense the other life forces here. Mostly humans, but also some others. A demon, weak and powerless. An empty one, soulless and pitiable. And something else, like a pale shadow of herself. It struggled at the midst of several vampires.

Curiousity drew her to it, the vampires scattering before her. But there was nowhere to run. She pursued them, slaying one after another. Some fought, all died. She could sense a few of their blows landing, her blood welling from a dozen small scrapes. She welcomed it, knowing that the scent would drive her prey wild.

Then suddenly there were no more, and she stood alone. One of the humans approached her slowly, speaking urgently, but she had no interest in his kind. Her shadow was to her left, crouched on the floor. She could smell blood and weakness on it. Sniffing experimentally, she stalked over to it, tangling the creature's hair in her hands and drawing it to its feet.

It moaned softly, and she grunted. Faintly, she could sense its strength, like an echo of her own, but choked off, limited. The scent of it was strongest at the neck, where a fresh wound was still bleeding.

Oblivious to the humans around her, she drew the wound to her mouth, suckling on the warm blood that coated the creature's skin. The taste was strong and sweet; like her own, but slightly spoiled. She growled, not sure if it was prey or not.

One of the humans grabbed at her, shouting something. She pushed it away with one hand, knocking it to the ground. As she did, the creature stirred weakly, drawing closer to her, like a cub to its mother. Not prey, then.

Faith could hear the beat of her own heart like a drum in her ears. There was a dull pain in her neck, and she knew dimly that she was being drained, the vampire groaning in pleasure from the taste of her blood. But her eyes were still on Buffy. The other slayer was golden, unstoppable, a force of nature as she tore through the vampires who faced her.

She tried to call out. To Buffy. To Xander. To anyone. But she couldn't hear anything over the drum of her heart. Couldn't speak or make a sound.

And then it was dark, but she felt herself lifted up. And she was in her mother's arms again, back in the days before things went wrong. She murmured and drew closer into the strong arms that were holding her safe.

Buffy jerked back in surprise, feeling Faith's body like a dead weight in her arms. Her mouth tasted of blood and she gagged, fighting an urge to spit. The brunette was only semi-conscious, obviously badly hurt. _Did I? No, of course not._

She shook her head, trying to clear it. Then Xander was there, scrambling up from the ground to draw Faith away from her, his expression half anger, half alarm.

"Riley?" she asked, her voice seeming thick from the blood.

"He went after Spike." Xander snapped, "Like _you_ were supposed to."

Her chest felt tight. She ran.

_Riley._

**Chapter Fifteen**

Faith opened her eyes with a soft moan of pain. She was propped against the iron staircase, Giles hovering over her.

"Hey." She winced. There were dull aches from every part of her body, and a stronger, sharper one from her neck. _Jesus, I almost didn't make it_. "Did we win?"

"I don't know." Giles answered pensively, "Riley managed to go after Spike. Buffy is looking for him. Now keep still. You've been badly hurt."

"You should the other guy." Faith joked weakly, "B blew off the plan, didn't she?"

"Yes." Giles admitted, applying a bandage to her neck, "It was …"

_Not like her_. Faith nodded, then moaned softly. _Okay, no head movements_.

"She was something else, though. Wasn't she?" she murmured, feeling a wave of dizziness hit her, "B, I mean. I've never seen anything like it. Those vamps couldn't even touch her."

"It was … eye-opening." Giles said, somewhat uncomfortably. "I've certainly never seen her like that, before."

"We should go find her." Faith tried to stand up, and the world tilted alarmingly. _Woah, I'm a mess_.

"_You_ should keep still." The ex-Watcher reminded her, "Even with your slayer healing powers, it will take a while for you to recover from your injuries."

"Okay." Faith smiled shakily, "but just for five minutes, 'kay?"

"Not a second longer." Giles agreed sombrely as the brunette slipped back into unconsciousness.

"Xander?"

The young man turned at the sound of his name.

"Hey," he walked over and crouched beside her. "Sounding a bit rough there, Faith."

The brunette smiled,

"Feeling it, too. Help me up?"

"Sure." He supported her arm gently as she levered herself to her feet, leaning heavily on the iron staircase. They seemed to be the only ones left in the bay.

"Where are the others?"

"Looking for Buffy."

"You got the short straw, huh? Watching over the invalid."

Xander shrugged,

"I have experience in being bedside-guy. And someone needed to stay and protect you in case any vamps came by."

"My protector." Faith managed a smirk, "Enjoy it whilst it lasts, Harris. In half an hour I'll be able to kick your ass all over the block."

She expected a snappy riposte, but he merely shrugged again.

"Okay, I'm missing something." she let go of the staircase experimentally. Her legs didn't feel too steady, but she didn't seem in imminent danger of falling over, "Something's wrong, isn't it?"

"It's Riley." Xander didn't look at her, "Giles found him outside."

Faith didn't need to ask. She could see it in Xander's face. But the words came anyway,

"He's dead?"

"Yeah…" Xander stopped, at a loss for words, "Yeah…"

"How's B?" It was the first question that came to her mind.

"We don't know." He shook his head, "She must have found Riley's body straight away … it was only just down the street. Giles thinks she's out looking for Spike."

"And everyone else is out looking for her."

"Yeah."

"Are they using the receiver … the one that Riley gave her?"

"They can't." he shook his head, "Buffy left her jacket over Riley's body. The transmitter was in the pocket."

She leaned heavily against the staircase,

"Why, Xander? Why does everything I touch go to hell?"

He laughed, shortly,

"It isn't you, Faith. It's Sunnydale. Even if you'd never come here, we'd still be fightin' that funky evil." Xander sighed, "There'd still be a Spike, or a Mayor, or an Adam. There always is. At least with you here we have double the slayer firepower."

"We don't, you know." Faith grimaced, "The time was, I thought I could match B at just about anything, from staking vamps to playing miniature golf. But I wasn't even in the same league tonight."

Xander didn't answer. He didn't need to. They had both seen the difference between the two slayers.

"We should go help them look for her." Faith stood up, intending to walk to the large doors of the bay. Xander caught her as she half-stumbled,

"Not a chance." He said quietly, "I have very clear instructions. I have to make sure you go to bed and rest. The others will find Buffy. You can speak to her tomorrow."

Briefly, Faith considered arguing, but there was a determined set to Xander's jaw.

"I should pop you one." She muttered.

"Do it and I'll kick your ass."

She laughed softly. _He probably could, at the moment_.

"Okay. You win. Take me home, Xander."

Willow and Tara had returned to the house.

Hansard couldn't specifically identify the point where he had ceased to think of them as 'the renegade' and 'the human'. That was quite unsettling. Too human.

It did not require the heightened senses of his people to see that they were both concerned about something. He watched them from the prison they had fashioned, mildly irritated that the events of their lives were beginning to hold an interest for him. That too, was a human trait.

"Were you successful?" he asked calmly, fully aware that _something_ was wrong.

At first, neither answered. Then Willow; 'the human', he corrected himself; sighed,

"We don't know if Spike got the Gem or not. Buffy was supposed to go after him, but she didn't. So Riley did. He … he died. And now Buffy has disappeared."

Hansard considered her words.

"If she has not returned, it is likely that your companion was also slain by Spike."

"_No!_" the redhead shouted, tears springing to her eyes, "She's alive!"

"That is not a logical conclusion."

"Don't go all Spock on me." She snapped.

_Spock?_ Hansard ignored the comment,

"If Spike does have the Gem, you should leave immediately." He said blandly, "The Jeneth demons will begin to arrive within a matter of days. You cannot defeat them."

"You thought we couldn't beat _you_." Willow reminded him.

"Touché." He conceded, "However, your powers are now limited by the very fact that you must keep me bound. That causes a fatal weakening of your powers."

"If you would agree to keep Tara's presence here a secret, we wouldn't need to imprison you."

"It is an unacceptable request." He replied, "I told you what Spike was seeking as a demonstration of my good intentions. But I cannot grant what you ask."

They did not answer, but moved away from him, silently signalling that the conversation was at an end. He accepted this calmly, but did not refrain from eavesdropping.

"He's right, you know." Tara murmured. She was always the more difficult to hear of the two. "We can't help fight the Jeneth if he need to keep him imprisoned."

"We don't know that we need to fight the Jeneth yet." The redhead insisted, "Buffy might have stopped Spike."

"She didn't." Tara shook her head, "We would have heard from her by now if she had."

"She's not dead!"

"I agree," the blonde placated her human lover, "We would know if she were. But we must assume that she did not manage to stop Spike. He had a big lead on her. She probably couldn't find him."

"So where _is_ she?" Willow asked miserably.

"I don't know." The renegade admitted, "but we know that she hasn't been acting like herself, recently."

"Yeah," Willow shivered, "did you see the way she tasted Faith's blood? What was she doing?"

"Blood is a vital fluid." Hansard observed calmly, interrupting them, "it contains the very essence of a living thing. That is why vampires feed on it. Some creatures can absorb or analyse that essence by consuming blood."

"What does that have to do with Buffy?" the redhead demanded.

Hansard stretched his lips into a small smile. It was an unfamiliar act, but it served to convey the fact that he had information they required.

"I can explain your friend's changed behaviour." He said quietly, "Just as … Tara … would be able to do if she had not polluted herself so completely with human failings. The question is, what is the information worth?"

The two girls looked at one another, confusion clear in their expressions. Hansard's expression did not change, but he felt a faint surge of satisfaction. _Now they will have to bargain_.

The marker seemed too small, somehow. Faith stared at it, unable to imagine how Riley could be reduced to the simple plaque he had been given. Slowly, she drew her denim jacket around her, shivering despite the bright sunshine of the day.

_Two days, and no word from B_. She couldn't look at the others who stood at the marker. She knew what she would see in each face. Grief. Loss. Blame. It had been _her_ plan. And now Riley was dead. Granted, she had never really liked him; that was an attitude she had learned from Angel even before she came back to Sunnydale. _But he meant a lot to B_.

And now the other slayer; the _better_ slayer; was missing. And Spike presumably had the Gem he had been looking for. Which meant that demons were probably already on their way to Sunnydale.

_Jesus, B. Where are you?_

There were only the four of them there. The official funeral; Riley's official grave; was in Iowa, with his family. But Faith had wanted there to be something in Sunnydale to commemorate him. _Something for B to see_. And so they had placed this simple bronze plaque in a distant corner of the cemetery. One more grave amidst the thousands.

_Thank god Red and Tara aren't here_. She couldn't have faced the blame from two more sets of eyes. It was hard enough to carry the image of how Buffy would look at her when they next met. The two wicca were still trying to coax their prisoner into revealing what he knew about Buffy's strange behaviour. So far, they had had little success.

Giles spoke the eulogy, his voice soft yet firm. He said the phrases with a tired familiarity that tore Faith up, inside. _He's buried so many people_. She imagined the day that he would speak the words for her. _Would anyone else come?_

She kept her eyes on the plaque, but she could feel both Xander and Anya watching her. The girl's eyes would hold suspicion and distrust. Faith could handle that. She was used to it. Xander's eyes were worse. She knew they would hold pity. And that was something she _couldn't_ deal with.

So she kept her gaze on the plaque, tracing the words again and again with her eyes. _Riley Finn. A Good Man_. Then at last, Giles was done. For a moment, she thought of saying a prayer, but with a hollow feeling she realised that she didn't know how.

"Goodbye." She mumbled at last, turning away from the grave.

"Faith! Wait."

The brunette turned back reluctantly, stopping only because she could not pretend she had not heard Xander call.

"Are we going to train this afternoon?" he asked, seemingly oblivious to the glare they were getting from Anya.

"I don't know." She mumbled, not looking at him, "I should look for B. She's gotta be out there somewhere."

"You shouldn't blame yourself for what happened." Xander ducked low so that her downcast eyes met his. "It wasn't your fault."

"Really?" Faith felt her lip twist into a smirk, "does your girlfriend agree?"

"Anya doesn't blame you for what happened. She doesn't like you much, granted. But she doesn't blame you."

"Well either way, maybe we shouldn't spend so much time together, yeah?" Faith shrugged, doing her best to play the hard, tough slayer. "She probably wants you around even more, now."

Xander sighed,

"Look. I'll be at the gym from four till six. If you come by, we'll train. If you don't …" He shrugged. "… then you don't."

"Okay." Despite herself, Faith smiled slightly. "I'll see if I can make it."

Willow sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly. Hansard watched her impassively. Unlike the two girls, he could go for several days without the need for sleep.

"Your request remains unacceptable." He restated his position. "I cannot turn my back on Tara's actions. They endanger our whole people."

"We need her." The redhead protested, "I love her."

If Hansard had been human, he would have shrugged.

"These matters do not concern me."

"A month." It was the first time Tara had spoken in nearly an hour.

"What?" the redhead looked at her lover in confusion, but the blonde had her eyes focussed on Hansard. He merely waited, impassive.

"A month." She repeated, "If we let you go, you tell us everything you know about what has happened to Buffy, _and_ you leave us in peace for a month. At the end of that time, if you still want to take me for punishment, we won't resist."

"Like heck we won't!" the human exclaimed in shock.

"Willow," Tara took the redhead's hand in her own, "Please. I have to do this."

"But -"

"The offer is acceptable." Hansard said calmly.

"Agreed."

"Wait!" Willow protested.

"It is too late." Hansard shook his head, "the deal is made." Already he could feel the imprisonment spell dissolving around him, as Tara ceased to supply it with energy.

"No!" the human protested again, tears in her eyes. The extravagant display of emotion made Hansard feel a vague sense of discomfort.

"I will tell you what you need to know." He addressed his words to the renegade. "And in a month, I shall return to take you for justice."

"If you do not change your mind." She said quietly.

There was an air of confidence about her that he found surprising. _False bravado_.

"I will not."

She crouched at the mouth of the cave, waiting for the darkness to come. Waiting to hunt. It had been millennia since she last walked the world. Millennia in which slayer and vampire alike had grown weak. She would change that. She would hunt again.

Sending dreams had not been enough. The new slayer had turned too far from her true purpose. Had become part of the weak, human world. Had renounced the role they were supposed to play in favour of offering protection in exchange for acceptance.

Slayers were not protectors, they were predators. The supreme predator, designed to cull the weak from among the vampires as the vampires in turn culled the humans. The world would learn that again. She would hunt, and slay, and show the soft mortal world exactly what the slayer was _supposed_ to be. She did not seek acceptance by the humans. It meant nothing to her. She sought only the hunt, and the chance to slay.

The girl had been strong, to resist the sending of the dream. But she had also been blind to the true power of the slayers. She had never even suspected what was happening to her. Now her body belonged to a true slayer, and the proper order would be restored.

The sun began to set, and the slayer smiled. Soon she would hunt.

And, trapped deep within the slayer, the soul of Buffy Summers slowly began to die.


	6. Chapter 6

**Watching Your Back (Part 6)**

**Previously ...**

Faith has returned to Sunnydale, apparently intent on reconciliation with Buffy and her friends. Initially suspicious of the brunette slayer, the gang has slowly begun to accept her again. Other matters also began to claim their attention: principally a substantial change in Buffy's behaviour, and a threat from Tara's past.

Faith's return could not have come at a better time, as Spike has been plotting to cause a flood of demons to come to Sunnydale. Aware that the vampire had some plan afoot, the gang formed a counter-plan. Unfortunately, Buffy's erratic behaviour led to the plan going awry and to Riley Finn's death. Now, the blonde slayer has vanished, and the others are left to wonder why …

**Chapter Sixteen**

Faith slammed into the side of the dumpster.

The vampire that had hold of her jacket swung her back, obviously intending to repeat the favour, but she drove the heel of her hand into its shoulder, then wrenched free of its grip.

"Pretty girl likes it rough." The vamp grinned, running his tongue over his teeth. His two friends laughed, the three of them working together to hem her into the dead-end alleyway.

Faith tried to remember where her stake had fallen, but her head was still ringing from bouncing off the dumpster. _This is not going well_. She'd seen the three vamps drag their victim into the alley, and thought it would be a simple matter to deal with them. _Either they are tougher than the average vamp, or I'm still weak from that fight in the bay_.

At least the girl they'd been trying to grab had got away. Though if she didn't think of something soon she might just end up being an even tastier replacement snack.

"What are you pups doing out?" she taunted, "I thought Spike kept you on a short leash?" Perhaps, if she lived through this, she could learn what the British vampire was up to.

"Hiding time is over, sweetness." The talkative vamp replied, still grinning. "We're going to rule this town."

"Really?" Faith shrugged, "Pity you'll be dust by then, isn't it?" _Good talk girl, but what are you gonna stake 'em with? Your razor-sharp wit?_

Then Buffy hit them.

The blonde slayer came out of nowhere, dropping onto the middle vampire from the rooftop. She was still dressed in the clothes she had worn the last time Faith had seen her, but by now they were crumpled and covered with leaves and dirt. _She must be hiding out in the woods_.

Buffy plunged a stake into the vampire's back with a feral snarl. As it dusted beneath her, she surged to up, driving one of her bare feet into the jaw of the left hand vamp.

The third undead tried to grab the blonde, but she knocked its hands aside easily and drove the stake into its chest. Its dust was still drifting to the ground when the third vampire joined its comrades.

The blonde slayer crouched amidst the dust, sniffing the air.

"Buffy?" Faith said, taking a tentative step toward the other girl, "Are you -"

The blonde turned and snarled, baring her teeth. Faith stepped back instinctively. There was no sign of recognition in the other girl's face. There was nothing in the expression to remind her of Buffy. _It's like someone else in B's body_. Which was a thought that gave her guilty recollections of her own jaunt in the other slayer's shoes.

The blonde gave another, lower snarl, then turned and ran off into the dark.

For a long moment Faith stood in the alleyway. If the vampires were back on the streets, she should continue with the patrol. _But I really need to talk to Giles about this_.

Pausing only long enough to find her stake, the brunette set off through the streets for Giles' apartment. She stuck to open, well-lit streets. There was no point in risking a confrontation when she had other business to attend to.

The journey took only a few minutes: although still not at her peak after the injuries she had sustained three days earlier, Faith could still run with the best of them. _Not that running is high on my list of priorities_.

Giles answered the door with the chain on, then let her in. A cross and a vial of holy water sat on the table next to the door. The ex-Watcher obviously wasn't taking any chances.

"I saw B." she announced immediately the door was closed.

"Really?" his face brightened momentarily, then grew concerned, "How was she?"

"Wild." Faith struggled to think of the right words, "Feral. She was dirty, and her feet were bare. You know how B normally is with her appearance. This wasn't her at all. Except that it was."

Giles nodded,

"I've just had a phone call from Willow," he explained, "she and Tara have come to some sort of arrangement with the spy. Willow seemed distracted, but from what she said, it seems likely that the first Slayer has taken possession of Buffy's body."

"But why?" Faith asked, puzzled, "B's a great slayer. The best."

"Not in the eyes of the first, it seems." Giles took off his glasses and started to clean them, "Did Buffy tell you about the dreams we all had after we defeated Adam?"

"Not a whole lot." Faith admitted, "Just that you were visited by the first slayer, who was upset that B had used your help." She paused, "Oh. I see what you mean."

"Yes." Giles put his glasses back on, "we had assumed that the first slayer would give up after Buffy defeated her in the dreams. But now it appears that we were wrong. She has taken a more direct involvement in the issue."

"I still don't get it," Faith threw herself into a chair with a sigh, "why would the first slayer care how B beat the bad guys, as long as she did? That's what slayers _do_."

"Not necessarily." Giles said quietly.

"What?"

"For the last thousand years, the slayer has served as a champion against the darkness." He explained, "but records before that are sketchy. Those we do have suggest that the slayer was not always an agent of … well, 'good', for want of a better term."

"So I guess I wasn't exactly the first slayer to go rogue, then?" Faith sighed bitterly.

"Not even the first this century." Giles took a seat opposite her. "Though it has been quite rare since the Council became properly established."

"So we know that the first slayer has taken over B's body." The brunette said softly, "What do we do about it? It's not like we can swap them back … we don't even know where B's soul is."

"I suspect that it is still within her." Giles tapped a heavy, leather-bound book that was lying on his table, "That is the case with most possessions. Your … experience … of body-swapping was the exception, not the rule."

"So do we just call in a Priest and exorcise B or what?"

"Unfortunately, things are not that simple." Giles sighed, "this is not demonic possession. Indeed, we may have inadvertently assisted the first slayer to possess Buffy's body through the spell of joining that we used."

"Damn." Faith threw her head back and swore, "so what _can_ we do? B bailed me out against some vamps tonight, but she wasn't exactly in the mood to play nice with me, either. We _need_ her, Giles. Spike still has that Gem."

"I know." Giles thought for a few moments, tapping his spectacles against his teeth. "If Buffy's soul is still within her body, then we may be able to get through to her in some way; help her to overcome the force that is possessing her."

"You mean a spell?"

"Well naturally we will begin research on that possibility." The Englishman put his glasses back on, "but it could take days or weeks to develop the right incantation. I meant rather that one of us should try and speak to her; break through to the real Buffy."

"She didn't seem in a very talkative mood to me, Giles."

The ex-Watcher paused, and Faith could see that he was struggling to find a tactful way to reply.

"I get it." She rested her head in her hands, "You mean someone she trusts."

"No." he corrected her gently, "but perhaps someone who she has a longer relationship with, such as myself or her mother?"

"No way." Faith shook her head, "I saw the way she took out those vamps, tonight. If she decided to get violent with one of you, there's no way you'd survive."

Giles studied her face for a moment, then nodded reluctantly,

"If you are certain?"

"Never been more sure of anything in my life." The brunette rubbed her hands on her thighs, "Hell, I'm not sure _I_ would get away if she came after me, at the moment."

"There's only one choice, then." Giles said, without much enthusiasm, "Someone who might get through to Buffy, but who might also survive an attack."

For a moment, Faith looked at him in confusion. Then she made the connection,

"Angel?"

"Angel."

Xander stood outside the gym, waiting for it to open. It was just before nine, and he had arranged to meet Faith for a training session. They had switched to mornings because Faith had begun attending all of Buffy's classes; which were mainly in the afternoon; and taking notes for the blonde slayer. Xander didn't know whether to feel admiration or sympathy for Faith's adamant refusal to admit that Buffy might not come back.

"We could be in bed right now, you know."

Xander sighed,

"I told you I had to train." He said quietly, not looking at Anya, "You could have stayed in bed. You didn't have to come."

"It gets cold in bed without you." She replied, ignoring the fact that it very rarely got cold in Sunnydale at all, let alone in late summer. They had had sharp words when Anya insisted in coming to watch him train, and he had relented only when she suggested that he was merely using the sessions as a cover for an affair with Faith. Xander had heard her revenge stories. He felt it was a matter of urgency to prove that nothing illicit was going on. The alternative did not bear thinking about.

"When does this place open, anyway?" Anya complained.

"Five minutes."

"And when will Faith get here?"

"In about twenty."

"Why do you get here so early if she doesn't?" the ex-demoness asked suspiciously.

"What, now _not_ being with Faith is suspicious?"

"It just seems odd." Anya answered, defensively.

"I go in first, set up the mats and do some warming up." Xander explained with forced patience, "I'm not a slayer. If I just start fighting from a cold start I pay for it in a big way the next day."

"Oh." Anya was silent for a moment, then spoke again, "I'm sorry."

_For the love of God, would she leave it alone_. Xander blinked suddenly. _Did she just?_ He turned to his girlfriend,

"What did you say?"

"I said I'm sorry." Anya shrugged uncomfortably, "for being so suspicious of you and Faith, I mean. I know you wouldn't really cheat on me, but I get jealous when you spend all your spare time with her."

"Well, I am sorry about that. About not being with you, I mean." He paused, "It's just that, Faith was the first person to actually give me a chance to really help out. That meant a lot to me. And with Buffy vanished and all these demons on the way. Plus what happened to Riley …" he tailed off slowly, then grimaced, "They're going to need me even more."

"Maybe I could get Faith to train me as well." Anya suggested, and gave an experimental kick.

"You could ask." Xander knew better than to reject the idea . Nothing would be more certain to make Anya determined to do something, "But you're really good at helping Willow and Tara. Giles said he thought you really made a difference at the loading bay."

"He did?" Anya brightened considerably, "Well, of course I am more suited to the magical than physical skills. Perhaps I should concentrate on them."

"If you think it's best." Xander said agreeably. Living with Anya was easy enough, once you worked out how to keep her in a good mood.

"You're a good boyfriend." She announced suddenly and hugged him. After a moment of surprise, he hugged her back.

The hug somehow blended into a kiss, and suddenly he could feel Anya's hands beginning to wander.

"I don't think that's a very good idea." He chuckled into her throat.

"Mmm?" she all but purred in response, "We could go down the side of the gym …"

"That was not the warm up I had in mind." He kissed her again, "Tempting though it is."

Anya pouted,

"You never have any time for me." She whined playfully, her fingers digging into his sides.

"I'll be out of here in two hours." Xander promised, drawing her closer, "And then I'll have all the time you want."

"Promises, promises." She nibbled his ear lightly, then kissed him on the lips, "don't bother to shower after your training."

"But I'll be -"

"Able to shower when you get home." She said pointedly, a smile creeping around her lips, "You have a nice shower at home. Very spacious."

"Yes …" there were definite advantages to having Anya as a girlfriend, "… I'll be able to shower when I get home."

Anya laughed softly, then kissed him one more time.

"They're open." She nodded at the gym, "Go warm up, lover."

"Why are you doing this, Angellus? Running back to her again? You don't owe her anything." Despite the hurt and frustration she was feeling, Darla's voice was calm, almost amused. However old she might be, she remained the child of a time that had scorned displays of strong emotion.

"Don't call me that." His answer was mechanical and distracted as he packed some clothes into a heavy canvas bag. It was black, of course. Her efforts to expand his wardrobe had so far met with very limited success.

"You just can't give her up, can you?" she snapped. She was proud of her self-control, but Angel had always been able to get under her skin. _I let him get too close to me_.

Angel didn't answer. He always retreated into silence when he grew tired of an argument. _Or when he knows he is wrong_. Instead, he pulled the zipper of the bag closed sharply, then moved the bag from his bed to a chair.

"Why are you in such a hurry?" she had herself under control again now, "There is no point leaving until this evening. You won't get far before the sun rises, now."

For a moment, he glared at her. Then his expression softened and he sighed.

"I have to go, Darla. I know you don't … can't … understand that. But I have to go." He shrugged, as if acknowledging the illogical nature of his actions, "Buffy needs me, so I go. That's the way it is between us."

"She didn't help you six months ago." Darla moved closer to him and laid a hand on his chest. She knew she was sending mixed signals, initiating physical intimacy whilst reminding him of the things she had done to him then, but he was not responding to logic.

"I didn't ask her to." His tone was cool.

"You should have," she purred, kissing his neck lightly, "she could have done what you couldn't, and finished it between us."

He grabbed her wrists suddenly. Despite herself, she winced.

"_Don't_ make me choose between you, Darla." His voice was stern, "You'll lose. Again."

She shook her head sympathetically,

"My poor Angellus. Still in love with the slayer." His hands relaxed slightly, but she did not try to break free, instead looking at him through her eyelashes. "Why do you hang on to your misery so strongly? If you could just let yourself be happy, all the pain would go away, forever."

He swore and released her hands,

"You know I don't want that."

"Why not?" she asked, with just the faintest hint of a taunt, "Give in to it, Angellus. You know you can never have her, the way things are. But if you accept who you are, we could turn her together. She could be yours, eternally."

He didn't answer immediately, and she smiled, deep within herself. She knew him. He might deny it, but the thought was always in him. His darkest fantasy, hidden from the world. But he couldn't hide it from her.

"She'd never drink me." He snapped, pushing her back. But he didn't deny the attraction of the idea.

"She would." Darla purred, caressing his cheek, "You just went about it all wrong last time, my love. You _helped_ her to hate you. To destroy you. You wasted that love, when it could have been your greatest weapon."

"No." he shook his head, "We're not having this conversation, because I'm not going to do it. I'm on the right side in this fight, Darla, and that is more important than whether or not I get to be happy."

"So self-sacrificing." She let the mockery in her tone come through strongly. "So _noble_."

He opened his mouth to reply, but as he did they both heard the sound of the office door opening.

"Angel?" Cordelia's voice, calling from above.

"I'll be right up." He called back, his eyes never leaving Darla. She returned his gaze coolly, concealing her satisfaction that their argument had dragged on so long.

"You should leave." He said quietly, "through the a sewer exit."

"In this dress?" she smoothed the elegant white gown she was wearing, "what's she doing here this early, anyway? Your eager young Watcher I could understand, but her?"

"Both Cordelia and Wesley come to work as soon as the sun is up -"

"How sensible of them."

He ignored the comment,

"They both work as late as necessary as well. They know how important our work is."

"How conscientious they both are."

He frowned,

"You could wear something else." Rather than respond to her comment, he changed the subject.

Darla shook her head, savouring Angel's discomfort,

"You won't let me keep clothes here, my love." She reminded him, a slight note of irony in her voice, "And we are far from the same size. Unless your lovely assistant could offer me something?"

Angel's frown deepened,

"Stay away from Cordelia." His tone brooked no argument, and Darla lowered her eyes, knowing she had pushed him as far as was safe.

"As you wish."

For a moment he paused, as if surprised by her compliance. Inwardly, she smiled. It was a dangerous game she was playing; balancing his instinctive desire for her against his disgust at what she represented. A false step might mean her death, and there were still scores to settle.

_And the risk is what makes the game worth playing_. The thought made her smile as she silently watched him climb up stairs to the office.

She had known from the start that he would choose to go and help the slayer. But now, when he did, the thought of all he had given up for her would be fresh in his mind. Thoughts of the pain, the betrayal, the impossibility of their being together. Thoughts of turning her. Thoughts of what other choices he could make. _Thoughts of me_.

So he would go. And despite all these things, he would help Buffy Summers. And then the slayer would turn him away again. _And I will be there to offer him solace, when he least expects it. He will at last begin to remember who he truly is_. It would be nice to visit Sunnydale again. She had a lot of catching up to do.

"I still can't believe you did that."

Willow was lying in bed, watching the light slant in through a slim gap in the curtains. She could hear Tara's soft breathing behind her, but she did not roll over to face the other girl. It was too hard to look at her and talk at the same time.

"I had to." The blonde answered in her soft voice. "He would not have agreed to d-delay taking me any longer than a month."

"We didn't have to let him take you at all." Willow replied bitterly, feeling tears already begin to thicken her voice, "He was our prisoner."

"We needed the information he had." Tara's voice was sad, but steady. "We have to help B-Buffy."

_Buffy_. Willow sniffed, miserably. The slayer was her closest friend, and she wanted very much to help her. _But I can't bear to lose Tara_.

"I love you." She mumbled into her pillow, "How can you leave me?"

Tara didn't answer, and Willow felt her dead weight in her chest growing colder and colder. Then the blonde's hand touched her gently on the shoulder.

"I can't." Tara whispered.

"But you said you would -"

"Only if he still wants me too."

"Which he will."

"Not if we find a w-way to change his mind."

Willow frowned, then rolled over slowly. They were now lying almost nose to nose.

"How?" She asked, trying not to hope too much.

Tara bit her lip,

"I don't know. We can't use magic to influence him."

"We could try."

The blonde shook her head,

"It wouldn't work. Even if it did, it would be wrong. We m-made an agreement. That's important among my people. I may be a renegade, but I can at least still live up to my p-promises."

"Then what _can_ we do?" Willow asked, plaintively. "I think we should talk to Giles."

"No."

"But -"

"_No_." Tara raised her voice for the first time Willow could remember, "Telling outsiders about our people is forbidden."

"But you told me. And you learned human magic."

"I know." To Willow's surprise, the blonde looked ashamed. "I n-never meant to. But I fell in love with you. I j-just couldn't say no."

"But now you can, even if it means leaving me behind." Despite her best intentions, Willow knew she sounded bitter.

"I must." Tara closed her eyes, trapping tears that had started to well within them, "You are already at risk. I cannot endanger anyone else by telling them about my people."

"Endanger them?"

The blonde nodded,

"Our laws are strict. We should both be killed for what I have done. The Elder could have insisted on bringing you for justice, as well."

"That's barbaric." The redhead exclaimed angrily.

"No." Tara shook her head, "my people do not see human death as an end. You are eternal, through your souls. By k-killing you, they would protect our secret, without doing any wrong."

Willow laughed nervously,

"Death sounds pretty end-y to me."

"The Elder m-made no mention of you." Tara continued, "B-but if we told anyone else what was happening, he would be forced to t-take action."

"I _hate_ this." Willow sat upright in the bed and slapped her hand on the quilted cover, "I hate that I might lose you. I love you too much, Tara."

"We have a month," the blonde touched Willow's arm gently, drawing her down again. "We'll think of some way to persuade the Elder."

They kissed slowly, neither wanting to speak for a few moments. But eventually they drew apart again. Willow laid her hand on Tara's cheek, trying to think of some way to get themselves out of the situation they were in.

_If only we could tell Giles_. Though he did not regularly practice magic, the Watcher had an excellent theoretical understanding, and a very sharp mind. _Or Angel_. Giles had said that the vampire would be coming to Sunnydale to try and help them find Buffy.

_The vampire_.

Her breath caught, as an idea began to form in her mind.

"Your people sometimes work for vampires, don't they?"

"Yes." Tara nodded, her expression confused, "The Elder was w-working for Spike."

"How much do the vampires know about your people?"

"S-some of them know what we are." The blonde said slowly, "Why?"

"We have this friend." Willow explained, "Angel. I told you about him, remember?"

"Yes." Tara frowned, "He used to be Buffy's b-boyfriend?"

"That's him." Willow could feel her excitement building, "the thing is, he's a vampire. That means we can tell him about you."

"A vampire?" Tara looked horrified, "that must be terrible for Buffy."

"What? Oh. No, you don't understand." Willow sat up, too full of energy to remain lying down, "Angel's always been a vampire. But he's not evil, because he has a human -"

She stopped. _Rosenberg, you're an idiot_. With a squeal of glee she turned and kissed Tara on the lips. The blonde's look of confusion deepened.

"Buffy was dating a vampire?"

"Yes." Willow waved her hand impatiently, "But the thing _is_, he has a human _soul_. Some gypsies cursed him with it. And I know the spell. We could give you a soul as well."

Tara frowned, then shook her head,

"I don't have a soul, Willow. Angel did, and the spell gave it back to him. It won't work for me."

"Oh." The redhead felt just like a balloon that had been suddenly deflated. It had suddenly occurred to her that even if the spell had worked, Tara would have lost her soul again as soon as she became happy. _You really_ are_ an idiot, Willow_.

She slumped back into the bed and stared at the ceiling. _There has to be a way_. At least her first idea could still work.

"We could talk to Angel about your people." She said, slowly, "He is a vampire, not a human."

Tara nodded hesitantly,

"That would be permitted."

The redhead continued to stare at the ceiling, letting her mind wander. In high school, she had always tried to keep her mind focussed, and logical. But learning magic had taught her that sometimes intuition could be more helpful. So she let her thoughts roam. The ceiling was cream. They had a nice house. It was a pity Buffy had never seen it. But at least Angel was coming to try and help them. They would need him and Buffy if these Jeneth demons turned up in town. As if Spike and his vampires weren't bad enough, attacking people and drinking blood. Though Buffy had done that too, the last time she saw her. Tara's Elder had said something about it.

_# Blood is a vital fluid. It contains the very essence of a living thing. Some creatures can absorb or analyse that essence by consuming blood. #_

Absorb. Essence. Blood was a powerful idea, even to humans. Blood-debt. Bound by blood. Blood-brothers.

She frowned. _It couldn't be that simple_.

Slowly, the frown faded into a smile. It wasn't that simple, of course. In fact, it would be extremely complex. But she knew spells even the gypsies had thought lost, and Tara could draw on all the lore of her people. They would find a way to do it.

The image on the screen was a little rough and unsteady, but the picture was clear enough. A demon with leathery skin and slightly cat-like eyes, walking slowly along a dark street.

"Looks like somewhere out on the west side of town." Harmony remarked, looking up from her fingernails for the first time in almost ten minutes.

Spike grunted. He was much more interested in the demon. It stood a little hunched over, but moved smoothly, with a suggestion of power. The creature's head, slightly broader than a human's, swung back and forth regularly, observing the street. _Not stupid, then_.

"Definitely a Jeneth?" he asked at last, flicking an extinguished cigarette out of his fingers.

"Definitely." Aleister nodded, "the first we've seen so far, but others can't be far away."

"Any chance they'll try anything?"

"Not yet. Not against us, anyway." Aleister paused the tape and pointed to a mark on the creature's arm, "That's a clan crest. The picture isn't good enough to make it out, but I'd say we're looking at a scout for one of the major Jeneth leaders. It's just doing reconnaissance. In a day or two, the clan leader will move into Sunnydale. He'll contact you himself. The Gem is too important to leave to a lesser member of the clan."

"No chance of a rogue?"

"None." Aleister shook his head, "the Jeneth are extremely organised."

"Is it our boy, do you think?" Spike lit a fresh cigarette.

"I couldn't say for certain," Aleister hedged, "The picture -"

"Make an educated guess, man." Spike's tone was impatient.

"Yes. At a guess, I would say it is probably the Clan of Tor'Kol." Aleister was obviously unhappy with having to venture an opinion.

"Tor who?" Harmony looked up from her nails for the second time. _Bloody amazing. Suddenly she takes an interest_. Spike ignored her, a sour expression on his face.

Aleister, however, cleared his throat,

"He is the most powerful clan leader in the country. There are others closer to Sunnydale, but they will have been warned off by his people. As Spike instructed, we contacted his clan immediately we had the Gem."

"Why?" the blonde's question was directed at Spike.

For a moment, he thought about telling her the truth, just to see the expression on her face. But then he quashed the impulse. _Not yet. Not where anyone else could hear_.

"Because he's the toughest and the richest, Harm." The British vampire gave a cocky grin, "And I intend to get everything I can for this little trinket."

"Oh." For a moment, he actually thought Harmony sounded suspicious. Then she smiled, "Does that mean you'll have lots of money for dresses?"

Spike snorted,

"Yes, pet. _Lots_ of money." _Not that you'll see a cent, you stupid cow_.

**Chapter Seventeen**

Faith swung open the door of the dorm room.

"Hey." she stepped back. "Come in."

Angel moved into the room slowly, then dropped a large canvas bag on the floor.

"Sorry to come by so late." He nodded at the darkness outside the window as Faith closed the door, "but I only just got into town."

"No problem." Faith shrugged, leafing idly through an open book on her desk, "I was up anyway."

"Just back from patrol?"

The brunette shook her head,

"Haven't gone yet." She yawned suddenly, "Got a paper due tomorrow. Wanted to get it done first."

The vampire walked over and looked at her work,

"Management theory?" he raised an eyebrow, "Not something I would have expected."

"B takes it." She muttered, not looking at him.

He paused, then said gently,

"We'll get her back."

"I hope so." She turned and gave him a sad smile, "Her grade point average needs her."

He couldn't help but notice that she was looking tired. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her clothes were rumpled, as if she had been sleeping in them.

"When was the last time you got some proper rest?" he asked. "You look terrible."

"Thanks." She snorted, "Still know how to make a girl feel good there, big guy."

He laid a hand on her shoulder,

"You can't keep living two people's lives. You're almost out on your feet. And you were badly hurt a few days ago. You need to rest."

"I don't have time." She whispered, "And I'm still a slayer, Angel. I can get by."

He sighed.

"Punishing yourself won't do any good. It wasn't your fault to begin with. Buffy will need you when she gets back. We need you now. If you keep driving yourself like this, you'll end up dead."

Faith laughed harshly,

"Don't punish yourself. That's pretty good, coming from you, Angel." The brunette thrust her hands in her pockets and turned away from him. "Mister self-inflicted, himself."

"I -" he began, then stopped. _I don't know how to answer that_.

"I told her, Angel." The words were a whisper; barely that. "About the prophecy."

He felt his world lurch. _Buffy knows_.

"Why?" the word sounded harsher than he had intended, and he asked it again, more gently, "Why?"

"It was an accident." Faith walked away from him, stared out of the window, "She asked me why I didn't like Riley. I screwed up; let slip that I thought she should be with you. B wouldn't let go of it. Made me tell her why."

"You think we should be together?" he blurted the question before he could think about it, stunned to hear the words from her lips.

The brunette turned to face him, a mixture of surprise and anger on her face,

"Jesus, Angel! I _have_ to think that!" her voice was thick, and he realised she had been crying ever since she turned away from him, "_B stuck a knife in me_. She said it was for you. If you aren't the true love of her life, then I gotta ask myself why else she would do that. I gotta face that she did it for _hate_. That she just wanted me dead. How do you think I could live with that?" by now Faith was half-shouting, half-whispering, her voice strained and harsh.

Angel didn't speak, just folded his arms around her and hugged her to him. For a moment, Faith froze, then reciprocated, burying her face against his chest as she did so.

"It's okay." He told her quietly, feeling her body shudder as he held her. "It's okay."

"No. It isn't." she pulled back and gave him a wan smile, "but we can fix it. You going to look for B tonight?"

"Yeah." He confirmed, "Giles told me what you said, and I think you're right. She must be up in the woods, somewhere. I'm going to look there first."

Faith nodded,

"Get her back for us, Angel."

"I will." He rested his hand on her shoulder,

"Now; you should skip patrol. Get some rest, okay?"

"Yeah. Okay." She didn't look at him.

"Good." Angel could see she was lying. _But it won't do any good to argue_. He picked up his bag and walked to the door, then paused. "Faith?"

"Yeah?"

He looked back at her, over his shoulder,

"Be careful."

The brunette gave him a surprised look, then smiled bashfully.

"Thanks, Angel."

He nodded silently, then slipped out through the door. It was time to look for Buffy.

Thirty minutes later, Faith left the campus grounds to patrol.

She knew that Angel was right: that she needed to get more rest. She was pushing herself too hard and slowing down her own recovery. But sleep would not come: not unless she exhausted herself, first. Perhaps after patrol she would be tired enough to be able to sleep. _And I am feeling a little better. Stronger than yesterday, anyway_.

The words sounded hollow, even in her own mind. They were true enough; she _did_ feel stronger; but they had nothing to do with her decision to patrol. The fact was, a horde of demons was about to hit the town, and with Buffy gone wild Faith was the only one with a chance of facing up to them. God help her, it was her _duty_ to face up to them. The thought brought a sour smile to her face. Maybe she and Buffy weren't connected in quite the way they had once thought they were, but Faith had picked up at least one of the blonde's traits. _I've got myself a prime case of slayer guilt_.

The brunette slayer slipped her hands into her pockets as she walked along the sidewalk. There was a chill in the night air, unusual for a summer night in Sunnydale. As she did so, Faith reflexively pressed her arms against her sides, checking for the reassuring shapes of her weapons under the jacket. She was carrying two stakes and her knife. _The_ knife. Buffy had given it back to her just two days before the night Riley died. There had been no special fanfare or comment: just a quiet, uncomfortable offer from the blonde and an equally uncomfortable acceptance from Faith. _I didn't even realise she took it when we left the motel room_.

At the time, the brunette had almost refused to take the knife. It seemed a symbol of everything that had gone wrong before. And it couldn't harm a vampire: just people. Now, she was glad that she had accepted it. It hadn't felt like it when Buffy made the offer, but Faith realised that the return of the knife was a gesture of trust from the other slayer. That meant more to her than she wanted to admit. _And we won't just have vamps to worry about, soon_.

Faith stopped suddenly. She could sense something was wrong, but she couldn't tell what. Slowly, she scanned the street. It was practically deserted: other than herself, the only person in sight was a shuffling hobo about twenty yards away.

There was a twinge from the brunette's slayer instincts, and her eyes drifted back to the hobo. He was still shuffling toward her, muttering to himself, his head down. He wore a long, baggy coat and a shapeless wide-brimmed hat. There was a faint smell in the air: hot and dry, a bit like pepper. Frowning, Faith took a half step backward.

It saved her life.

The hobo suddenly leapt toward her, swinging a spiked club from under his coat as he did so. The head of the club flashed mere inches from Faith's face: had she not moved, it would have smashed into her skull.

Faith threw herself backward even further, opening up some space between herself and the hobo. The hot, dry smell had grown stronger now. She fought an urge to sneeze. The hobo also stepped back, and the brunette narrowed her eyes. There was something not quite right about the way he moved; a kind of fluidity that was more than human.

Ears straining for the sound of anyone else approaching, Faith circled left, staying out of range of the spiked club. She slid a hand inside her jacket, grasping a stake. She didn't think she was facing a vampire, but she could be wrong. _And a stake to the heart will kill most things_.

Her opponent crouched, slowly swinging the spiked club back and forth. The slayer scowled. The club was nearly three feet long, putting her at a substantial disadvantage for reach.

"So what's this about, handsome?" she asked, "since I don't think you want me to spare you a dollar."

The hobo didn't answer, but he did straighten up enough that Faith caught a glimpse of his face. Its face, more accurately. Leathery skin, heavily seamed. She remembered the drawing Giles had shown them. _A Jeneth demon. It's started_.

The creature approached slowly, club at the ready. Faith feinted forward, and the demon swung the weapon in a whistling arc. As it checked the swing, the slayer stepped forward, striking at the Jeneth's hand.

If the blow had landed, the creature might have dropped its weapon. Unfortunately, it was able to jerk its hand out of Faith's reach, then swept back with the club. The brunette ducked under the blow, but the time she needed to dodge gave her opponent the chance to open some space between them, restoring their original position.

_Damn, he's fast_. Faith frowned. She was feeling almost back to full strength, but the Jeneth had a longer weapon and obviously knew how to use it. Once, she would have attacked, regardless. But people were relying on her, now. She couldn't afford to be seriously injured while defeating the demon. _I need a plan_. The brunette tried not to think about how her last plan had turned out.

Catching sight of several garbage cans in an alleyway, the slayer circled again, moving very slightly backward as she did so. The demon turned with her, but did not otherwise move from its position. The gap between them widened by about a foot, putting Faith well clear of the club's reach.

She turned and ran for the alleyway.

A moment later, she could hear the running steps of the demon behind her, but a moment's start was all she needed. Snatching up the lid from one of the cans, she threw herself forward, then whirled with the lid in front of her, dropping low as she did.

The Jeneth, unable to halt its charge, leapt high into the air. It cleared the slayer's head by nearly two feet, landing well beyond her. Faith got quickly to her feet as the demon turned to face her once again. The hat it had been wearing was now lying on the ground, and she could see its cat-like eyes narrow as it faced her.

_Here it comes_.

The demon surged forward, club swinging in a vicious arc. Faith met the charge firmly, blocking the swing with the lid of the garbage can. As she had expected, the soft metal lid buckled and wrenched out of her hand, stinging her fingers. But it slowed and deflected the club enough that she could duck under the blow and stab the Jeneth with her stake.

Unfortunately, the wooden weapon skidded off the creature's thick, leathery skin.

_Oh shit_. Faith had just enough time for a moment of impotent fury before the Jeneth dropped its club and grabbed her in a powerful, crushing hold. Within moments, she could feel agonising pressure on her ribs.

Her arms trapped, the slayer kicked at the demon's legs with her booted feet. It grunted, but held firm. _Better hope it's male_. She slammed her knee into the Jeneth's groin.

The creature's grip loosened slightly, and the slayer squirmed furiously, working one hand free. Then the Jeneth recovered, and the pressure on her ribs re-doubled. She tilted her head back, feeling a moan escape her lips, and the creature smiled.

Faith smiled back.

As the Jeneth's eyes widened, she thrust with her freed hand, driving the knife into the demon's side. Unlike a wooden stake, the steel blade punched easily through the leathery skin. Warm blood, smelling of copper and cloves, seeped over the slayer's hand.

The creature staggered, but tried to tighten its grip further. Faith stabbed again. Then a third time, driving the knife in deeply. At last, the hold loosened and she fought free. Dark red blood was soaking the demon's coat; had even stained Faith's own clothes; but the Jeneth still lurched toward her, hands outstretched.

Dodging the weakened blow, Faith struck back twice, plunging the blade into the demon's chest. It sagged to its knees, then crumpled to the ground. Slowly, the brunette drew in a shuddering breath, feeling her constricted lungs twinge with pain. She put her hands on her knees and coughed softly, taking a few moments to recover.

Straightening again, she stared at the corpse for a few minutes, hoping that it would dissolve or otherwise vanish. It remained depressingly solid. It would have to be buried, then. At least she could be sure that would leave her exhausted enough to get some sleep.

With a sigh, the brunette levered the demon's body into a trash can and put the mangled lid back on top. At least that would be less conspicuous than carrying a corpse down the street. The slayer winced as she lifted the can, her bruised muscles complaining at the effort.

_I just hope the Jeneth aren't all as tough as this one. Two of them at once would be real nasty._

"We shouldn't d-do this."

Willow sighed softly. At least Tara was no longer arguing that it was too dangerous.

"Tara, if we don't…"

"It's wrong. My people -"

"- think that _everything_ we have together is wrong." The redhead reminded the blonde, laying her hand gently on Tara's arm. "How much worse could this make it?"

"W-what would Giles or Buffy say?"

"We're not going to tell them."

"But what would they say?"

"Giles wouldn't say anything." Willow hedged. _He'd be too upset with us_. "And Buffy … the sooner we do this the sooner we can start looking for a way to help her."

Tara sighed,

"You're not going to g-give up on this, are you?"

"No." Willow shook her head, "I've got my resolve face on now."

"It's v-very dangerous. You could _die_."

"I know. But you've been my anchor before. I know you'll keep me safe. You've read my notes on the ritual. Do you think it will work?"

Tara nodded reluctantly, and Willow smiled, trying to look more confident than she felt.

"Then let's do it."

The two wicca settled cross-legged on the floor of their room, facing one another. Miss Kitty immediately leapt up onto the bed, where she could watch them both. A smile tugged at Tara's mouth, and Willow laughed softly,

"See? Even Miss Kitty knows that we should do this."

The blonde took a deep breath and smoothed her skirt over her knees,

"Are you r-ready?" she asked, fear and anxiety clear in her face. The most difficult part of the ritual would fall on her shoulders, though it would be Willow who was in the most danger.

"Yes." The redhead nodded, running her hand over the Orb of Thesulah that lay between them. It was the centre of a small circle of magical artefacts she had assembled. Then she put her hands on her knees, took a deep breath, and began the chant.

At first, the ritual was identical to that which they had used to help Buffy get her body back from Faith. Within moments, both witches could feel the building aura of power around them. As before, Willow leaned backward, body arching as the magic washed over her. Tara formed her anchor, linking her spirit self to the physical world.

Now the ritual changed, Tara's voice speaking the flat, muted sounds of her people's magic. Willow's anchor vanished, and her spirit began to drift away, helpless. But then glittering lines of magical force formed a cage, completely enclosing the two of them. The redhead's spirit recoiled from them, unable to escape.

Willow's body shot upright, her voice joining Tara's. Seeing this from outside herself was an eerie experience for the redhead, but she forced herself to concentrate. The blonde's chant had changed again, increasing in complexity. Caught in the grip of magic, Willow's own body mouthed the words in perfect unison with Tara. A shimmering field formed between them: invisible in the physical realm, it was almost blinding to the spirit-Willow's eyes.

She felt the magic reaching for her from both bodies, let it envelop her. Immediately, there was pain: more than she had expected. The redhead's spirit screamed silently, writhing in the grip of the magic. It took every ounce of control she had to stop struggling against the pain. Every instinct demanded that she fight back, but Willow pressed them down.

It felt like a thousand hooks were in her, slowly tearing her apart. And then her spirit-self _did_ tear, blue fire streaming down, flowing into each of the two bodies. For a moment, her consciousness was inside both, and she could see through two sets of eyes. Then Tara spoke a harsh word of command and Willow was only within herself, though blue fire still burned within the blonde.

The redhead took up the ritual again, chanting stiffly at first, finding it difficult to recover her control of her body. Then the words came more smoothly, and her voice grew stronger. The spell was similar to that which had cursed Angel, but at the same time very different. For one thing, it was born of love, not hate.

The blue flame guttered within Tara, then flared as Willow's voice rose to a crescendo. A wave of dizziness and nausea struck the redhead, then passed. She drew a shuddering breath, realising suddenly that both she and Tara were covered in sweat from the exertions of the spell.

"Did it work?" she asked the blonde, her voice quiet and afraid.

"We can see together." Tara took Willow's hands in hers, then let the redhead share her heightened perceptions. The room seemed to swim with the fading colours of the spell they had performed, but they both had their attention fixed on the dim, frail fire that still burned within the blonde. _We did it_. They had drawn part of Willow's own soul into Tara, and bound it there by magic.

The flame seemed to flicker, and she felt her heart constrict. _What if it goes out?_ But the fire recovered, continued to burn.

"It worked." She felt relief, happiness and a little surprise. She hadn't been sure.

"Yes." Tara agreed, looking down at the soul that now nestled within her. "I can f-feel it. It's already changing, Willow. And it's changing me."

The redhead started,

"What? But … how is it changing you?" _What if something happens to Tara?_

"It's okay." The blonde smiled, a look of radiant disbelief on her face, "It's making me _human_, Willow."

Angel picked his way through the woods outside Sunnydale. He felt ill at ease. Even before he became a vampire, he had preferred the city to the countryside. The two centuries since had served only to reinforce that preference.

Most vampires favoured cities. It meant they were always close to food. And to shelter: cities had hotels and public buildings, which could be entered without invitation. Those facts probably had something to do with why the slayer had come here to lair.

The vampire was making very slow progress through the undergrowth. Despite his care, he was unable to move with the stealth he could have displayed in the town. He was coming to the conclusion that it had been a mistake to venture into the woods. _I probably should have waited for her in town_.

He jerked his head up suddenly. The woods seemed still and quiet around him, but he could sense _something_. It was just vague sensation, like an itch at the back of the neck. For a moment he stood completely still, listening. Nothing. But that itch was still there.

Slowly, Angel took a step forward, ears straining. _There!_ The faintest sound of movement, above and to the left. The vampires spun in that direction, trying to peer through the darkness.

A shape plunged out of the trees toward him, and Angel just barely twisted aside of the main impact. Something scraped across his arm, tearing a shallow cut in his flesh. The collision knocked the vampire backwards, and he went with it, rolling smoothly to his feet.

His attacker was already crouched in a fighting stance, a stake held loosely in one hand. She seemed poised to attack, but for the moment neither of them moved.

It was Buffy. Or rather, the slayer. The blonde's usually immaculate hair was matted and grubby, whilst the feral snarl on her lips was entirely unlike any expression Buffy had ever worn. There was death in her eyes, and a hunger for it that he had never seen there before. Not even when they had fought before Acathla.

"Buffy?" he asked gently, whilst warily watching the blonde. "It's me, Angel."

She tilted her head to the side, as if surprised that he had spoken to her. Slowly, he stretched out one hand, palm toward the slayer.

"Buffy." He used her name again, "I know you're in there. It's Angel. Your friends need you, Buffy. _I_ need you."

The slayer remained crouched, unmoving. Her nostrils were flared, her eyes dark. But she did not attack. Angel allowed himself to hope.

She crouched. At first, she had been sure this thing was prey. But now that she was close, it seemed strange and different. This place had too many things she did not understand. She remembered the not-prey from the last hunt. It had smelled almost like her. But she was the only one of her kind. Always alone.

The strange thing reached out to her, talking softly. She remained still, unsure. Was it prey?

Then the wind carried the scent of its blood to her, and she remembered wounding it. Slowly, she raised her weapon. Dark blood gleamed on the tip.

She tasted it, feeling the rough grain of the wood beneath her tongue. The blood was thick, and stale, and dead. Her eyes narrowed in satisfaction.

_Prey_.

The slayer's tongue licked delicately at the blood on her stake.

"Buffy?" Angel asked, feeling hope fade as suddenly as it had come.

She attacked.

Angel threw himself backwards, narrowly avoiding the plunging stake. This slayer was fast, much faster than either Buffy or Faith had ever been. Each blow came closer than the one before, and he had no time to even think of striking back.

He ducked another swing of the stake, then fell to a sudden leg sweep. Twisting violently, he felt the stake thud into the ground mere inches from his chest. Angel cursed, more out of reflex than intent, then scrambled to his feet. The slayer's hand hooked around his ankle, tripping him again, but he kicked free and threw himself forward, feeling fiery pain explode in his right calf as he did so.

Staggering to his feet, he ran, feeling his leg wobble dangerously as he did so. The pain was intense, and he realised that the slayer's stake had damaged the muscle there. The injury took some edge off his speed, and he could hear her crash through the woods to his left, moving in front of him.

_Trying to cut me off_.

He veered left off the path, aiming to cut across behind the slayer. The sudden change of direction took his pursuer by surprise, and he gained several precious yards.

Angel ran, throwing everything he had into the bid to escape. He did not even think of fighting. This slayer was faster and stronger than any he had ever faced. Even if he could have beaten her; and he doubted he could; the body was still Buffy's. He could not risk killing her.

He plunged onwards through the woods, feeling branches tear and snap as he ran on, heedless to the bruises and welts he was collecting on his face and arms. There was a creek only a few hundred yards away. The slayer seemed to rely heavily on her sense of smell. If he could reach the water, he might be able to lose her.

Angel's knee twisted, and he fell, smothering a howl as the pain from his calf flared ever higher. Gasping, he staggered to his feet and limped onward. But his speed was gone now, and he could not recover it. The slayer was catching him too quickly.

Changing direction again, he hoped to gain a few seconds. But the slayer was not so easily fooled a second time, and was instantly moving to intercept his new trail. _Damn_.

The ground began to rise, and Angel cursed again, realising that his change of direction was taking him up onto the ridge that ran to the south of the creek. The ground there would be clearer, making it more difficult for him to hide. And it would take longer to reach the water.

He tried to turn toward the creek, but the slayer had out-distanced him; was now closer to the water than he was. If he went that way, he would run right into her. Though even if he didn't, she would catch him as soon as his leg gave way again.

Less than twenty feet from the crest of the ridge, it did just that. Angel fell, tried to rise, and felt a heavy weight slam him back to the ground again. He twisted by instinct, and the slayer's stake slid off his ribs; cracking two as it tore through his side.

The vampire grunted, tried to throw the slayer from his back. He was half-successful: she fell backward, but their legs were tangled, stopping him from getting free. Angel kicked out as best he could, feeling his boot catch the slayer on the hip. She kicked back, finding his injured calf, and he felt a rush of dizziness from the pain.

The slayer's kick had untangled their legs, however, and the vampire was able to roll away and start scrambling toward the top of the ridge again. He moved on his hands and one knee, unable to rise to his feet.

Hands clamped onto his injured leg and twisted it sharply. He howled, kicked back with the other foot. The slayer's grip slipped for a moment, and Angel reached the crest of the ridge. Beyond, he could see a fifty-foot slope leading down to the creek.

The slayer leapt on top of him, knees driving into his back as her fists slammed onto his collarbone. He felt it crack, fought the urge to pass out. At least she seemed to have lost the stake.

Angel swung his elbow back, knocking the slayer off him, then threw himself over the crest and down the slope.

He did his best to keep his arms over his head and his legs straight as he rolled down the slope, bouncing and sliding over rocks and through bushes. Then suddenly he landed in the water, and sank quickly into the cold depths.

Spike watched as the Jeneth approached. Tor'Kol was an intimidating sight. Fully seven feet tall, he moved with grace and power. _Snappy dresser, too_. The demon wore a suit-jacket and pants, plus a white shirt. Given the demon's height and powerful build, Spike knew that the clothes must have been tailored specifically for him.

The Jeneth had brought five others with him: four were obviously guards, nearly as large as Tor'Kal and just as well dressed. The fifth was shorter and slighter than the others, and wore a hooded cloak.

"Welcome, Tor'Kal." Spike rose from his chair, keeping a confident smile on his face. It would not be wise to show weakness. There were nearly twenty of his people in the chamber, but the five Jeneth looked capable of overcoming them all.

"You are Spike?" the demon's voice was deep and slow, but precise.

"I am." The British vampire nodded, walking slowly toward the Jeneth leader. Two of the guards stepped in his way, but Tor'Kal growled softly and they moved back again. Spike walked between them, stopped when he was only a yard or two from Tor'Kal. For a second, the vampire and the demon stared at one another wordlessly. Then the Jeneth spoke again,

"You have the Gem?"

"I do." Spike agreed, "It's in a safe place."

"What payment do you require for it?"

"Let's not rush this, mate." Spike spread his hands and gave a false grin, "We can talk terms later. For now, take some time to get to know the town. See the sights, meet the slayers. Once you're settled in, we can talk trade."

There was a low rumble from the Jeneth, and for a moment Spike tensed, expecting trouble. Then he realised that the demon was _laughing_.

"I was warned you were a bold one." Tor'Kal peered down at the vampire, who barely reached his shoulder. "I see the warning was accurate."

Spike shrugged,

"Can't help my nature, mate."

"Very well." There was still an edge of amusement in the demon's voice, "We will 'get to know the town'. I have heard much of these slayers. It would be interesting to face one."

"It's a once-in-a-lifetime experience." Spike said agreeably. Tor'Kal laughed again,

"For them, perhaps."

The demon looked around the chamber.

"I have forty of my people with me." He rumbled, "Do you have any suggestions where they could be quartered?"

"We have room here." Spike replied smoothly, "You're welcome to it."

"A gracious offer." The Jeneth nodded, "And one I will accept. And since you have been a generous host, I should be a polite guest, and introduce my consort. I believe you know her."

The robed figure stepped forward, pushing back the hood as she did so. Dark hair spilled out, framing a pale, lovely face.

"Hello, Spike."

The British vampire felt a surge of elation, like fire in his blood. Putting a false look of surprise, he gave a rakish half-bow. At last, all the pieces were in place. _My black queen is on the board_.

"Welcome back, Drusilla."

**Chapter Eighteen**

"Angel?" Joyce looked shocked and half-asleep. He couldn't blame her.

"I'm sorry to wake you." The vampire leaned heavily against the frame of the Summers' front door. His clothes were still wet and heavy from the creek, and he was streaked with grime and blood. "I went to try and speak to Buffy. It went badly."

"Come inside." Joyce took his arm gently and helped him to the living room, pushing the door shut with her foot as she did so, "How badly are you hurt?"

"I'll survive." Angel grunted, "Could you call Giles in the morning? Let him know what happened? I need to get back to the mansion before dawn."

"Nonsense." Joyce said firmly, taking a good look at him, "You look terrible. You can stay here: I have a spare room."

"Joyce -" he began, then stopped. She had a tilt to her jaw that he had seen many times from Buffy. _I'm not going to win this one._ He sighed. "Thank you."

"What happened?" she asked, as she helped him up the stairs to the spare room. The desperate energy that had allowed him to escape from the slayer had vanished now that the immediate danger was over. Even vampires could suffer from a post-adrenaline crash.

"I went looking for Buffy." He answered shortly, "Tried to get through to her. It didn't work. She chased me down to the creek. I fell in, then crawled along the bottom until I got to town. Vampires don't need to breathe. A fact that has saved me more than once before."

"You need to get out of those clothes and take a bath." Joyce decided. "I'll find you a robe. After, you can sleep in the spare room. Should I call Rupert now?"

Angel considered it.

"No." he paused, "But you could call and tell Faith what happened."

"Faith? Will she be awake at this time of night?"

The vampire sighed,

"Yes. I think she probably will."

Joyce gave him a puzzled look, then went back downstairs to make the call.

Forty minutes later, Angel lay in the spare room; his shoulder, calf and side swathed in bandages. Joyce Summers evidently did not believe in doing first aid by halves.

The door of the room clicked open and he suppressed a sigh,

"I'm fine, Joyce -" he began, turning his head toward the door.

"Hello, Angellus." Darla smiled sweetly, gently closing the door behind her. "Things went well with the slayer, I see."

"Go away, Darla." He rolled his head back to stare at the ceiling, then frowned and sat upright sharply. The sudden movement sent ripples of pain through his side and shoulder, but he suppressed any reaction beyond a slight grimace. "How did you get in?"

"Don't worry, your little nurse is tucked up safe and sound in bed." The blonde vampire sat delicately on the edge of the bed, giving him a slightly mocking smile. "She let me in to the house four years ago. It seems the invitation still stands."

"What are you doing here?" he asked suspiciously, settling back into the bed. "I thought you didn't want me in Sunnydale?"

"I thought it might be fun to visit old haunts." She answered playfully, "What happened to the High School?"

"Don't give me that, Darla." He caught her wrist in his hand, "what are you up to?"

"I came to make sure you were okay." She replied, the teasing lilt gone from her voice.

He paused, momentarily surprised into silence.

"Darla, we can't…"

"I know." The blonde shook her head, "but I can't help what I feel. You know you can't be with the slayer. It doesn't stop you loving her, does it?"

There was no answer to that question.

For a long, silent moment they stared at one another. Then Darla leaned down to him, and their lips met hungrily.

The kiss deepened, and his hands gently curled into her hair. Lost in the taste of one another, neither of them heard the door open.

"Angel." The voice was husky, rough with shock and too little sleep.

_Oh no_. He pulled Darla away from him, ignoring her soft moan of complaint.

"Faith." His own voice sounded as strained as hers. The brunette was standing just inside the room, her hand still on the door handle. There was a look of horror on her face. "It's not what you think."

"_It's not?_" the slayer's face grew hard and angry, "Then what the hell is it, Angel?"

Without another word, she ran from the room, and the door slammed shut behind her.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Willow asked Tara for the third time since they left the house.

The blonde gave her a tired but indulgent smile,

"I'm fine. Really."

"I'm sorry." Willow looked contrite, "It's just that I only expected the ritual to give you a soul … not to make you human."

"This is better." Tara said contentedly as they walked to Giles'.

"But your powers -"

"Aren't important." The blonde interrupted, placing her hand over the redhead's mouth. "I don't need them to see the beauty inside you, Willow. None of your friends do."

The redhead blushed deeply.

"Well, here we are!" she announced, gesturing at the building in front of them. "Giles' place. Which is good, because that's where we wanted to be. It wouldn't do to be at Buffy's house, instead. Not that we wouldn't want to be at Buffy's, it's just that's not where we were going."

Tara silenced the babbling redhead with a gentle kiss.

"My." Willow murmured when their lips finally parted. "That was nice. And public."

Tara smiled slightly,

"I don't have to hide who I am, anymore." She said quietly, gesturing for Willow to knock. "It feels good."

Giles opened the door, a cup of tea in his spare hand,

"Good morning." He greeted the two wicca, "Come in."

Willow and Tara entered the apartment, closing the door gently behind them, then settled onto the couch, their hands automatically clasping together.

"Do you want something to drink?" the ex-Watcher asked, rubbing his eyes. He hadn't removed his glasses, and they bobbed up and down on the back of his hand. Willow stifled a giggle. It really wasn't that funny, but she felt positively giddy this morning. It was almost like she had been drinking coffee. Then she felt Tara's fingers press gently on her own, and knew the real cause of her good mood.

"No thanks." She said, realising that Giles was looking at her and belatedly remembering his question. "We're ready to get straight down to business."

"I wish there were more business to, uh, 'get down to'." The Englishman said with a sigh, "I spent most of the night reviewing my texts, but I haven't found very much that could help us with a possession like this. If we were dealing with a demon it would be different, but as far as I know the first slayer has never done anything like this before…"

"Did Angel have any luck?" Tara asked, her voice clearer and less hesitant than it normally was.

"No," Giles shook his head briefly, "he did meet … Buffy … but she didn't respond very well to his attempt to communicate."

"Is he okay?" Willow could tell there was more to the story.

"He was injured." Giles replied vaguely, "but he will recover. When I spoke to him he seemed more concerned about Faith. Said he didn't want her to do anything rash."

"_Angel_ said that?" Willow frowned, "Why does he think Faith would do something like rash? Well, I mean, beyond her general Faithiness."

Giles sighed,

"Faith is trying very hard to fit in. Possibly too hard. What happened to Buffy … and Riley's death … upset her a great deal. She's putting herself under a lot of pressure."

To her surprise, Willow felt a stab of guilt for not being more supportive of Faith. It took her a moment to realise that she was actually feeling sympathy for the brunette slayer. It was not an emotion she had ever expected to feel for Faith. _I guess that means I'm even starting to like her._

"Then we should make a start as soon as possible." She said decisively. "Maybe magic could help us where your books couldn't, Giles."

"A ritual?" the ex-Watcher adjusted his glasses nervously. Even after all this time, he wasn't entirely comfortable with Willow's pursuit of the magical arts.

"Yes." The redhead considered for a moment, "perhaps the Auguries of Deimos?"

"Or Patharus' Rite." Tara suggested, "And there m-might be some spells we could try from that, uh, new magic I've been showing you."

"New magic?" Giles asked, frowning.

"Yeah." Willow racked her brains for a convincing cover story.

"I got that spy to show us some of his magic in return for releasing him." Tara said smoothly, "some of it might help."

"So these soulless have a unique magical tradition?" Giles mused, "Intriguing. I wonder why my books make no mention of them."

As the ex-Watcher drifted briefly into a distracted silence the two girls shared a conspiratorial smile. Now if only they could help Buffy as readily as they had been able to help themselves.

Faith landed heavily on her back, a startled grunt bursting from her lips.

"You okay?" Xander offered her a hand up, "That's the third time I've flipped you today."

"I'm five by five." Faith gave him a fake grin as he helped her to her feet.

Xander briefly considered letting it drop. _Faith doesn't like to talk about stuff_. Then he remembered how miserable he had felt when he hadn't been able to talk to anyone about his need to contribute to the team. Faith had seen that. Had offered him a chance to do something about it.

"Look," he said quietly, "you can kick my ass for saying this; though I'd prefer you didn't; but you're a bad liar, Faith. You haven't been focused since we started sparring. Something's bothering you, and I think it'd help if you told someone about it."

The brunette gave him a black look,

"I don't do the sharing thing, Xander."

"Maybe you _should_." He folded his arms and did his best to look stern. It didn't work, but it at least caused a smile to glimmer at the corners of her mouth.

"Christ, Xander." Faith kicked at the ground and half turned away from him, "Why do you people keep trying to get inside my head?"

"Well let's see." He pretended to ponder, "It could be our love of rejection. Or our desire to visit strange new places." He snapped his fingers, "Or hey! It could be that we're your friends!"

"Friends, huh?" the slayer jammed her hands into her pockets, "Well, speaking as a friend, Xander: butt out."

"If that's the way you want it." He raised his hands in surrender, "You ready to go again?"

She nodded,

"Let's do it."

Xander kicked low. She blocked, a little slowly, and countered with a left hook. He ducked under it, grabbed Faith's jacket, and yanked sharply. The brunette took a step forward to regain her balance, and Xander scythed his leg between hers, throwing his weight forward in a sacrifice fall. The two of them toppled toward the mat.

In mid-air, Faith somehow twisted them about, and it was Xander who landed on the bottom, his breath exploding out of him as the brunette's weight landed squarely on his chest.

"See, Xand?" she grinned, still lying on top of him, "I haven't taught you every trick I know."

"Apparently not." He agreed weakly, releasing her jacket. Faith's hair was spilling down around her face. It smelled of apples. Gently, he pushed it back, away from his nose.

As he did, his fingers brushed her cheek.

Her eyes were so dark. _So lonely_.

They kissed.

Faith's lips were warm and moist on his, hungry yet gentle. Her rolled her onto her back, and the brunette slid her hands round his shoulders. Her body was soft yet firm beneath him and her breath was sweet in his mouth. His hand cupped her breast.

_Anya_.

He jerked back suddenly, scrambling off the slayer. He could still taste her on his lips. _Shit, Harris. What are you doing?_

"Xander?" Faith was propped up on one elbow, a worried expression on her face.

"I'm sorry." He blurted, even though he wasn't sure if he had started the kiss or not. "But I can't do this. I blew one relationship this way already. I won't do it to Anya, as well."

"Hey Xand, it's no biggie." The trademark Faith grin was back in place. "It didn't mean nothin'. Just figured you might like a little uhh." She grunted and made a suggestive hand gesture.

"No, you didn't." he shook his head, "I've been with you when you just wanted a little 'uhh'. This wasn't like that."

For a second, her grin froze in place, then crumpled completely. Faith rolled onto her back, hands covering her eyes.

"Dammit, Xander." She cursed miserably, "Why do I have to screw everything up?"

He touched her shoulder gently,

"Hey. It's not like that."

"Yes it is." She moved her hands, and he was startled to see tears in her eyes, "I come back to Sunnydale and what happens? B gets possessed. Her boyfriend _dies_. Angel scores with some vamp slut. And now I've gone and screwed things up with you as well."

_Angel?_

"Faith …" he paused, "were you … and Angel?"

The brunette blinked, then laughed bitterly.

"No." she shook her head, "But I always thought it was Angel and Buffy, all the way. Guess I was wrong. Guess I was wrong about a lotta things."

She scrambled to her feet and ran out of the gym, leaving Xander kneeling on the crash-mats, alone.

Faith tossed her bag onto the bed and then threw open the doors of the dorm room closet. There wasn't much to pack: the closet was all but empty. _Just like my life_.

She was already wearing her most comfortable Docs, so she dropped the other pair into the bottom of the bag, then added her battered old sneakers as well. Black jeans on top of that, then the lighter pair of leather pants. Then her shorts: the only blue denim she owned.

She was halfway through stuffing her shirts into the bag when the door clicked open and Angel walked into the room. The slayer flicked a glance through the window. Bright sunshine.

"How'd you get here?" she grunted, drawing the zip of the bag closed. Three of her shirts were still hanging in the closet, but now that Angel had shown up she just wanted to bail as fast as possible.

"Sewers." He answered quietly, "There's an access point in the basement of this building. Going somewhere?"

"I'm getting the hell outta Dodge." She slung the bag onto her shoulder, "Before I screw up anything else. Why? You gonna try and stop me?"

"Couldn't even if I wanted to." The vampire pulled back the collar of his shirt to show a swathe of bandages over his shoulder. "But I've got to say I'm disappointed. I really thought you'd changed, Faith. I told Kate you were done running."

"Well you told her wrong." Faith muttered, wanting to walk away from him but not able to bring herself to do it.

"Joyce told me about your dance costume." He leaned against the door. _Figures. He won't 'stop' me leaving, but I'll have to push him aside to do it_. "You know Wyatt Earp cleaned up Dodge, right? If that's so, then why are you leaving?"

"I didn't go as _Earp_." She snorted, "I went as Holliday."

"Holliday never ran, either." He reminded her.

"Holliday was dying. He didn't have anything to lose."

"Whereas you just have your friends."

Faith scowled. Angel never fought fair.

"They were doin' just fine _before_ I showed up, deadboy."

"Sure," he shrugged, "and if you want to blame yourself for things you had no control over, go right ahead. But I did it for a hundred years, so believe me when I say it doesn't help."

"What about the things I did have control of, Angel?" she snapped, "Poisoning you? Stealing Buffy's body? Kissing -" she broke off a moment before blurting Xander's name.

Angel misinterpreted her sudden silence.

"Faith, I know seeing Darla and I must have come as a shock." He paused, "Especially after what you said here last night."

"Yeah, well I guess I was wrong about you and B."

"No. You weren't." he rested a hand on her shoulder, "Faith, there won't ever be anyone like Buffy. Darla and me … is complicated. It feels all wrong, but it also feels good."

The brunette nodded. It sounded uncomfortably familiar. _Like me and the Boss_.

"What were you doing at Buffy's last night, anyway?" he asked gently.

"Mrs S. said you were hurt." She shrugged uncomfortably, "I came to see how you were doin'." The last five words slid into an embarrassed mumble.

"Well I was doing okay." He stepped away from the door, taking care to remain in a shadowy part of the room, "Until I heard one of my friends was leaving town."

"Pretty lame, Angel." Faith smirked, eyeing the door.

"Yeah." He agreed. "Did it work?"

Faith sighed and threw her bag back on the bed.

"At least till we get B back."

There was a low buzz of discontent amongst the vampires of Spike's court. Jeneth demons had been filtering into the tunnels in ones and twos throughout the day: there were nearly forty of them now, taking up almost half of the vampires' lair. Only two things prevented the discontent from going any further than muttering. The first was the confidence and strength of each Jeneth: even the youngest cubs could sense the power of these new visitors.

The second factor was Tor'Kol's consort. The beautiful, peculiar vampire known as Drusilla. She sat now at the centre of the main hall, and already a circle of admirers had formed around her. There was something in the dark-haired vampire's eyes. A glint of malice. Of power. Of madness. It captivated those who saw it.

Only two vampires seemed immune to this effect. The first was Spike, who lounged in his chair at one end of the hall, a cigarette in his hand and a soccer magazine in his lap. Drusilla's eyes kept drifting to him, even as she laughed and talked with her would-be suitors. Each time she looked at the British vampire, she gently stroked the head of the doll she held in her arms. For his part, Spike appeared oblivious.

Harmony snorted to herself. _Oblivious my ass_. It was glaringly obvious to her that Spike was acutely aware of Drusilla's sidelong glances. But then, she was the second vampire who didn't find the newcomer captivating. _Just creepy. What is with that doll, anyway?_

She glanced at Spike. There it was again. That smug, self-satisfied smile that slipped onto his face every time he got distracted. Oh yes, he knew Drusilla was there. _The bastard planned this somehow. It's all been about getting her back_.

Before she became a vampire, Harmony Kendall's academic performance had been average, at best. Books and school bored her. But there had been one thing at which she was a straight-A student: popularity. And she knew exactly what Drusilla's sudden return meant. _I'm about to become yesterday's girl_.

Her mouth firmed into a hard line. Well, High School had taught her a few lessons about dealing with situations like this. As Spike and Drusilla would find out. There was no way Harmony Kendall was going to tamely let herself be shunted aside.


	7. Chapter 7

**Watching Your Back (Part 7)**

**Previously ...**

Faith has returned to Sunnydale, apparently intent on reconciliation with Buffy and her friends. Initially suspicious of the brunette slayer, the gang has slowly accepted her again. Faith's return could not have come at a better time: Buffy has begun to act erratically whilst Spike has been plotting to cause a flood of demons to come to Sunnydale.

During the desperate attempt to thwart Spike's plan, Buffy's erratic behaviour came to a culmination: as a consequence, Spike's plan succeeded and Riley Finn was killed. The cause of Buffy's strange actions was also revealed: she has been possessed by the first Slayer.

Now, as demons descend on Sunnydale, Angel has come to town to help the gang recover Buffy, whilst the secret goal of Spike's ploy has at last been revealed: Drusilla is back.

**Chapter Nineteen**

The mood in the Summers' living room was grim.

Giles laid the tray of tea things on the table and settled into the last remaining chair.

He looked around the room. Every one of them looked haggard and worn out. Tara and Willow were squashed up on the couch with Anya and Xander. The four of them had been at his apartment every night for the past week, trying to devise a cure for Buffy. The strain of too many spells in too short a time was clear on the faces of both wicca. Xander had helped out in every way he could: fetching ingredients, shuttling the exhausted witches back and forth between their house and Giles' own, even buying groceries and making sure people actually ate something. In typical Xander fashion, he had dubbed himself 'Responsibility Guy'.

Anya, meanwhile, had surprised them all. Usually self-absorbed to the point of being callous, she had volunteered her assistance with the spell research. Admittedly, her attention span tended to be short, and her knowledge of the black arts revolved mainly around hurting people rather than curing them, but it was the first time Giles could remember her actually acting like a part of the team, and not just an amused observer.

Joyce sat in the other easy chair, a grey, drawn expression on her face. They had explained Buffy's situation to her as carefully as possible, but she was obviously extremely worried about her daughter. The longer this went on, the more she would withdraw into herself. _And it has already been ten days since Buffy was possessed_.

On the second couch were the two people he was most worried about: Faith and Angel. The slayer and the vampire were patrolling together every night, and the level of demonic activity was growing more and more prominent. Not even Faith's slayer healing could keep up with the injuries she was sustaining, and Angel had never allowed himself the time to fully recover from the beating he had suffered a week earlier.

Feeling concern for Angel's well being was not something Giles had ever expected he would do. Not since Jenny had been killed, anyway. But he knew that the vampire was giving everything he could to help them, and could not help but feel a grudging respect.

"Thank you all for coming." He said at last, drawing weary gazes from the others. "I know how tired we all are, but we need to continue to keep each other informed of what is occurring. Joyce has kindly allowed us to use her home as a meeting place, since my own apartment is becoming rather inhospitable." Some of the rituals they had performed in trying to help Buffy had proven to have unpleasant side effects. The more harmless just left a stench like rotten eggs: one or two of the others actually made it unsafe to stay in the apartment for too long. It would need at least a day or two to air, and he had to admit that they had all but exhausted their magical options, anyway.

"Are we going to meet here, tonight?" Willow asked, her voice flat and tired.

"No." he shook his head, "We all need rest. I want everyone to take the night off." He glanced sharply at Faith and Angel, "That includes both of you. Understood?"

Faith looked ready to argue, but Angel nodded,

"I think you're right, Rupert." He said quietly, "We're getting too tired to be fully effective on patrol anymore. Two vampires got away from us last night."

"Only because that Jeneth came along -" Faith protested, actually managing to sit upright.

"And he fought the two of us to a standstill all by himself." The vampire reminded her, "One night won't drag the whole town into hell. And you need the rest."

"No college either, Faith." Giles added, drawing stunned looks from the whole room. "I've heard what you've been doing to yourself, and I won't allow it."

"But B's classes -" the brunette began.

"I have arranged for both of you to be excused from classes for a week." The ex-Watcher interjected, "Had I realised earlier what you were doing, I would have done so already."

The brunette looked stunned,

"But how?"

"I explained to the Dean that you were both good friends of Riley's." the Englishman said gently, "And he was quite willing to grant you both some special consideration. He even offered some counselling sessions, but I said that wouldn't be necessary."

A look of relief passed across the slayer's face, then was replaced by one of guilt. Giles knew she was thinking about Riley. He wanted to tell her that what happened wasn't her fault, but he doubted Faith would listen to him.

"Faith," to Giles' surprise it was Xander who spoke into the uncomfortable silence, "nobody blames you for what happened to Riley. Nobody blames you for _anything_ that's happened since you came back. And we're really glad that you are here, now." He waggled his eyebrows comically, "You're our only hope, Obi-wan Kenobi."

"Damn." Faith smirked weakly, "if I'm our only hope we really _are_ screwed." Despite her words there was an edge of humour in the slayer's voice; an edge that had been missing for several days.

Giles poured himself a cup of tea, using the action to conceal the smile of pride that was insistently creeping across his lips. The grim mood in the room had lightened already. The resilience of these young people never failed to impress him. Time after time they went beyond themselves and beyond all expectation. More times than he could count, they had found victory in the darkness.

He looked up, and his gaze met that of Joyce Summers'. She still looked tired and worn, but there was life in her eyes again. She had sensed it, too. And as he looked around the room at the expressions of the others, he saw in them the face of his grandfather when the old man spoke of Dunkirk. There was that same pride, that same bullish refusal to yield. That same obstinate determination to succeed.

And for the first time in days, Rupert Giles allowed himself to hope.

"Why are you still here, Angel?" Darla had appeared in his room within minutes of the sunset. "These people are beaten. Can't you see that?"

"You're never beaten until you give up." Angel answered from where he was lying on the bed. The speed with which the blonde vampire had arrived must mean she had her lair nearby. He kept meaning to seek it out, but patrolling had kept him far too busy. Now that he finally had a night free, she had turned up too early for him to go out and find her.

The blonde curled her lip scornfully,

"A pretty sentiment, Angellus. But that's all it is."

"Don't call me that."

"My apologies, _Angel_." Darla inclined her head with a condescending air. "But the fact remains that they are beaten. Your precious slayer is lost to them … and to you. If you see her again she will simply finish the job she started before." Her soft white hand stroked his arm, "I don't want to lose you to her again. Not like that."

He turned his head and stared at her thoughtfully.

"What _do_ you want, Darla?"

She frowned,

"What do you mean?"

"You spend a lot of time telling me what you don't want." He sat up slowly in the bed, "But you've never said what it is that you want instead."

"I want _you_." She had that familiar, artful look of vulnerability. Her fingers touched his cheek gently. They were trembling slightly.

"No. You don't." he grabbed her hand in hers, pulled it away from his face, "You want Angellus."

"You _are_ Angellus."

"Not any more." He shook his head, "Never again, Darla. You dream of the old days, don't you? The trail of blood we left across Europe? Those days are _gone_. Accept it."

The blonde's expression grew hard,

"You're fooling yourself, Angellus." She snapped, "You lost your soul once. It _will_ happen again. Say you do recover your little slayer. What then? If you try to be with her, you'll destroy yourself. If you try to live alone, you'll go mad, in time. Either way, I'll be waiting for you. We _will_ be together again."

"No. We won't." his voice was gentle, but it was firm. A large part of him did not want to hurt his sire, despite her nature. "I have hope, Darla. A prophecy that I will one day be human again. It may not happen in Buffy's lifetime. It may not even come to pass. But I have hope. And that is all I need to stop myself from ever becoming Angellus again."

"_Hope?_" Darla's tone was a mixture of disbelief and scorn, "You have _hope_? Open your eyes, Angellus. You've already lost here, whether you want to admit it or not. But there is still time to accept who you truly are. Come with me."

He shook his head silently.

"Fine." She snapped, "I tried to help you, but obviously you're too blind to see which is the winning team. Well, I'm not. Goodbye, Angellus."

She turned and stalked out of the room.

Only after the door had closed behind her did Angel close his eyes and rest his head back against the wall. He felt almost physically drained. The call of his blood had been so _strong_. At the end he hadn't even been able to trust his voice in answering her.

But now it was done. For better or worse, Darla had left him, forever.

Anya leaned against the frame of the door, giving her visitor a cool inspection.

"Xander isn't here." She said, at last.

"I know." Faith answered, looking uncomfortable. "I came to see you."

The ex-demoness didn't answer, just continued to watch the brunette slayer. At length, Faith spoke tentatively,

"Can I come in?"

"I guess." Anya replied shortly, stepping aside and allowing the slayer to enter.

Faith walked to the middle of the living room, looked at the couches, which were decorated in a floral print, and remained standing.

"Your folks have a nice place."

"It's okay." Anya conceded, "though if I'd known I was going to be stuck here I would have picked someone richer."

The slayer looked confused, half-smiled, then went back to confusion.

Anya snorted as she realised that Faith had no idea what she was.

"I'm a vengeance demon." She sighed, "I got stuck in human form when my power source was destroyed. These people aren't really my parents. They just think they are."

"Oh." Faith said. But her confused look slowly faded.

"So I assume this visit has a purpose?" Anya flopped into one of the couches.

"Yeah." Faith glanced away from her, then looked down. "You know how Xander and I haven't been training together in the last few days?"

Anya nodded,

"He said you were too busy. I guess with your week off college you want to start again?"

"Um. No." the slayer finally looked her in the eye, "the thing is, about a week ago I, uh, kissed Xander."

"What?" Anya gaped. Then she snapped her mouth closed. "I'll kill him."

"No!" Faith exclaimed, then wiped her hands on her thighs, "the kiss was totally my fault. And Xander put a stop to it straight away. He said he didn't want to lose you."

"I should think so." The ex-demoness muttered darkly, then glared at the brunette, "so why are you telling me this, you … you Jezebel!"

Faith looked bewildered for a second, then brushed her hair back with her hand,

"Look. I don't want to bust you guys up or anything like that. I just didn't want someone else to give you a messed-up story of what happened. You know how these things get around."

Anya picked a cushion off the couch and aggressively thumped it back into shape.

"So…" Faith continued slowly, "Like I said, I wanted you to know what really happened. That Xander didn't do anything wrong." She paused, "And I know how uncomfortable it could be for you guys if I stuck around, so after we get B back and deal with these Jeneth demons I'm going to leave town. I don't want to screw anything else up around here."

"Yes." Anya glanced up from the cushion, "I think that would be for the best."

"Yeah." Faith said in a small voice, already walking toward the front door, "Me too."

Darla stalked into the chamber, clutching the sentry vampire by the throat. The movement and conversation in the room gradually stilled as she walked across it, dragging the feebly struggling vampire along with her.

A leather-jacketed vampire with peroxide blonde hair was sprawled in one of the large chairs at the head of the room. He watched her approach with a sardonic smile, eyes flicking contemptuously across the other vampires in the room. Darla allowed herself a small smile. She recognised that look. _William still despises the weak: whoever or whatever they may be_.

"It's always nice to meet a pretty new face," the British vampire said conversationally, "but you appear to be abusing my hospitality, darlin'. Or at least, you're abusin' Max."

"He was rude." Darla flashed her most innocent smile, then released her captive. He scrambled away hurriedly, then rose to his feet. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off.

"Go back to watching the door, Max." Spike said dismissively, lighting a cigarette. Leaning back, he blew a long trail of smoke, "New in town, sweet-cakes?"

"I got in about a week ago." Darla smiled sweetly, "but I've visited before."

"A week?" Spike's tone was casual, but the look in his eyes suggested he was less than happy. "You must be very clever, darlin'. Someone should have spotted you days ago." This last comment was directed at the room as a whole, not to Darla herself.

"To be fair," Darla laced her fingers together, "your people have been distracted. Angel can be _such_ a nuisance."

"Angel?" Spike sat up sharply, "What do you know about the big poof?"

Darla laughed throatily,

"Well, I know he's no poof." She licked her lips delicately as a ripple of laughter swept through the watching vampires. "But really, William. Is that any way to talk about family?"

Spike's eyes narrowed, then widened suddenly in recognition. He leapt to his feet with a yell and lifted her by the waist, whirling her in the air.

"Darla, luv!" he crowed in genuine pleasure, "It must be what, fifty years? I heard you were dead."

She grabbed his head and kissed him hard on the lips.

"I'm not that easy to get rid of." Darla purred, stroking the British vampire's chin. He let her slide down into his arms, returned her kiss with one of his own.

"This is great!" he enthused, "You, me and Dru, back together again!"

Darla frowned,

"Drusilla's here?"

"Yeah. She's running with the Jeneth these days." Spike grinned, "and you may have noticed we have a few of them in town. She'll be so pleased to see you!"

"Yes. Me too." Darla said quietly, then smiled and ran her hand through his dyed hair. "So, you got anyone to eat in this dump?"

"Aleister!" Spike snapped his fingers, "Fetch us a fresh one!" he turned back to Darla, leaving his arm curled around here, "Angel and his slayer friends do what they can to stop us hunting, but they can't be everywhere at once."

"With the Jeneth here you could crush them." Darla reminded him, "Why haven't you?"

Spike's lip curled,

"It's that blonde bitch, Buffy." He murmured softly, "I've fought her plenty of times before, but there's something different about her now. Even the Jeneth get carved up when they take her on. And she's not patrolling with the others. We're still trying to work out what the hell the slayerettes are cooking up."

"William, darling." Darla breathed, mischief curling her lips in a smile, "I have some news for you."

**Chapter Twenty**

Tor'Kol watched silently as the vampire known as Spike entered the room. After a week in the town of Sunnydale, he grew tired of the delay in discussing payment the Gem of Fey'R. Thus far, the vampire had proven reluctant to discuss concrete terms. Only Tor'Kol's sense of honour restrained his growing impatience.

There was something different about the vampire today, however. He walked with a swagger, and the expression on his face was extremely self-satisfied.

"I take it that you are ready to bargain." Tor'Kol observed, his voice a deep rumble.

"I am, old mate." Spike grinned, "I am indeed."

A blonde female vampire entered the room. Tor'Kol felt Drusilla stir beside him.

"Look Miss Edith," she whispered to her doll, "it's my grandmama."

"Drusilla." The blonde said coolly, taking a seat at the table.

_The grandsire of Drusilla_. Tor'Kol considered the newcomer thoughtfully. She was beautiful and elegant, but had an air of vulnerability. He briefly switched his gaze to her eyes. _Intelligent, proud and not nearly so vulnerable as she pretends_. This vampire would bear watching.

"Tor'Kol," Spike gestured to the blonde, "this is Darla. The sire of the sire of my sire." His voice registered amusement with his own formality, "She's brought me some interesting news."

"One of the slayers; Buffy; has been possessed by the spirit of the First Slayer," the blonde explained, smiling slightly, "the others are distracted by their desire to free her from this possession. Their erratic behaviour is not the clever stratagem you had feared: it is a sign of their desperation."

"Intriguing." Tor'Kol mused, "my people's records speak of the early slayers. They were powerful fighters, but primitive and barbaric. This made them relatively easy to distract."

Spike smirked,

"And that's exactly what we plan to do, mate. Distract her right into a trap. The others will have no option but to try and save her."

"And then you plan to crush them?"

"Not quite." Darla answered Tor'Kol's question with a deceptively sweet smile, "we plan to let Buffy do that for us."

"An interesting objective." Tor'Kol rumbled. Yes, this vampire bore very careful watching indeed. "How do you plan to accomplish this?"

"It's a two stage operation." Spike explained, "First, we have to catch the little blonde bitch. Your people are the fastest and strongest we have, Tor'Kol. We'll lead her into a prepared trap, then seal her in."

"A dangerous task." Tor'Kol observed, "there would almost certainly be casualties."

Spike nodded,

"But they'll be worth it for the Gem, won't they mate?"

The Jeneth nodded.

"They will indeed." He would willingly sacrifice every one of his Clan for the Gem. _As I shall have to sacrifice Drusilla to this scheming vampire._

"So your people bait the trap to catch us a slayer." Spike resumed his explanation, "then we let the rest of the slayerettes know we've got her. They'll come running to help her -"

"That would be tactically unsound." Tor'Kol objected. "They must realise it will be a trap."

"Of course." Darla agreed, "But she is worth as much to them as the Gem of Fey'R is worth to you. And you would risk a trap to regain that, would you not?"

"They truly value this girl so highly?" the concept perplexed Tor'Kol, "the Gem of Fey'R will redeem my entire people, and bring great power to he who restores it. This slayer is just a girl: there will be another once she is gone."

"Trust me, mate." Spike grinned, "this lot'd storm hell itself if it meant a chance to save one of their own. They'll come, even knowing it is a trap."

Drusilla shifted in her chair. She had been nursing Miss Edith, but was now beginning to fidget impatiently. The dark-haired vampire grew bored very easily. Tor'Kol suppressed a sigh of irritation. He took great pleasure in Drusilla's body, and her dark, cunning imagination. But her child-like behaviour could be very trying.

"So they will enter our trap willingly." He rumbled, "How then do you propose to set them against this 'Buffy'?"

"She has already attacked one of them once." Darla's smile broadened and lost its sweetness, "She will do so again. When she does, the others will try to stop her."

"And she will consider them enemies for doing so." Tor'Kol laughed softly. There was a pleasing malice to the plan. "But can she truly destroy them all?"

"She doesn't have to." Spike leaned back in his chair with a smug look, "Whilst she's trying to kill the poof and anyone else who gets in her way, we'll be able to pick off her friends."

"We can kill them all." Drusilla smiled dreamily.

"Not all." The corner of Spike's mouth twisted slightly, "I want to turn the little redhead. Maybe let her eat that shy blonde of hers as a birthday treat."

"The redhead?" Darla asked, "Why her?".

"She and I have unfinished business from when I had that damn chip in my head." The British vampire growled, "And I could use her magical know-how, since I don't have anyone with any genuine ability at the moment."

A thoughtful expression crossed the blonde female's face for a moment. Tor'Kol suspected that she had inferred more from Spike's remarks than he himself. _A sharp one, this Darla_.

"And in return for our assistance with this trap, you will grant me the Gem of Fey'R?" he returned to the most important issue.

Spike nodded,

"Win, lose or draw, mate … you'll get the Gem."

David hovered nervously over Cordelia's desk. Their obscenely wealthy benefactor was coming by more and more regularly. Having Angel out of town for such a long time was making him anxious. Or at least, that was how she chose to explain his visits. She certainly hoped it wasn't because he wanted to see her. David was a nice guy, but really, she wasn't that desperate. _Not yet, at least_.

"So, um, how much longer do you think Angel will be in Sunnydale?" he asked as he paced across the office, nearly knocking a sheaf of papers on the floor. Cordelia grabbed them off the desk with a low growl of frustration. The last thing she wanted was to spend all day re-organising the filing.

"He said he would be there for as long as it took." She answered testily, for what felt like the fortieth time that week, "this sort of case can take a while to break, David."

"Oh." He nodded, as if in understanding. Cordelia sighed silently, knowing exactly what would come next, "What sort of case was it, again?"

"A personal one." She evaded the question in the same way she had every time before, "Angel isn't billing the company for it."

"I don't care about the money." He laughed at the absurdity of the idea. Cordelia suppressed a fleeting urge to throttle him. Money was something she could never imagine not caring about, regardless of how much she had. _It's just not natural_. Maybe David was really a demon. A sappy, inoffensive one. It would make a pretty clever cover.

"Wesley and Gunn should be here soon." She said brightly, after a furtive glance at the clock, "they were out hunting a Korith demon last night. I'm sure they'd love to tell you about it." She offered a silent apology to the two men.

"Really?" David's face brightened at the idea. "That would be great! Maybe I could use some of the details next time I'm the Dungeon Master."

"Maybe." Cordelia agreed absently, picking up a large pile of papers to take for filing.

"Because, you know, I used that vampire you killed last month for a game and the guys thought it was great!" David trailed after her as she walked across the office. Cordelia made vague 'listening noises' as she balanced the filing in the crook of her arm and opened the first filing cabinet. "I had to change it a bit to fit into a fantasy setting of course, and I gave him a plus three sword to make him a bit tougher, but otherwise it was almost like the real thing. Oh, except that he had these goblin minions -"

Cordelia shrieked, the pile of papers sliding out of her hands as a wave of pain hammered through her head. Images bombarded her with incredible rapidity and she sank to her knees amidst the scattered pages, clutching her temples. Somewhere, she was dimly aware of David asking her if she was okay, but there was no way she could form the words of a reply.

The telephone began to ring as the vision finally cleared, each shrill note feeling like an iron spike was being jabbed into her temples. Eyes almost shut, Cordelia staggered to her feet and walked unsteadily to the desk. Leaning against it, she took a series of deep breaths.

"Should I get that?" David said tentatively, pointing at the phone.

"No. It's okay." Cordelia winced as the phone shrilled again. Her mind was still replaying the images of the vision, trying to reinterpret them some other way. _Any_ other way. It wasn't working.

"It's crazy." She muttered, reaching for the phone. _There has to be another explanation_. She put the handset to her ear and tried to inject some enthusiasm into her voice. "Angel Investigations. We help the helpless."

"Cor? Don't hang up."

_I don't believe it_. The brunette sighed and closed her eyes. One of these days she was going to have some words with the Powers That Be. They had entirely too warped a sense of humour.

"Cor? You there?"

She sighed again,

"Yeah, Harmony. I'm here."

"Nice place you and Red have got." Faith congratulated Tara, staring around the living room.

"Thanks." The blonde replied with a bright smile, "We're lucky we can afford it. If Willow didn't get all her tuition fees waived, we wouldn't be able to stay here."

"Wow." Faith quirked an eyebrow, "You're really coming out of your shell these days, blondie. What's with the new you?"

"Oh." Tara turned a delicate shade of pink and ducked her head, "I just … things are going really well with Willow. That's all."

"Relax." The brunette grinned, "I like the new you. She's got a bit of oomph. Not wonder Red fell for you. Where is Willow, anyway?"

"She's upstairs. Would you like me to get her?"

"Yeah. That'd be good. I need to speak to both of you."

Tara nodded and left the room. After a moment's hesitation, Faith sat gingerly in the window seat, trying to suppress the urge to fidget. A minute or two later the two wicca returned to the room and settled into the couch facing the slayer. At meetings, they normally held hands when sitting together. Here, they sat with their arms around each other's waists, their legs touching gently.

A small black cat trotted into the room after the two girls, stopped briefly on seeing the visitor, then leapt into the slayer's lap, curling quickly into a contented little ball.

"Hi Faith." Willow said placidly, smothering a yawn. "Miss Kitty seems to like you."

"Hey, Red." Faith paused, then smiled slightly.

"What's so funny?" the redhead asked in a curious tone. The slayer shook her head slightly,

"I'm just imagining the reaction if I'd turned up on your doorstep four weeks ago." She said wryly, "I don't think it would have been a yawn and a hello."

"Not unless you'd brought chocolate brownies." Willow agreed gravely, eliciting a hoarse chuckle from the slayer. "So what did you want to see us about?"

"You haven't had any luck finding a spell to help B, right?"

The two witches shook their heads in unison.

"No." Willow confirmed, "We're still looking for other spells, but everything we've tried so far has failed. We haven't had anything this difficult to solve since we finally switched Amy back from being a rat."

"Giles told me that B's soul was probably still in her body." The brunette decided not to ask about this 'Amy' business, "So it's not like when she and I switched places."

"That's right." Tara agreed, "We were able to create an item that could switch you back. But it was a lot different to this. We don't even know how the first slayer has taken over Buffy's body."

"I don't know a lot about this spell stuff," Faith confessed frankly, "but I was thinking that maybe we do know how she did it."

"What do you mean?" Willow asked, leaning forward with interest.

"Well, you guys cast that spell to help B kill Adam, right?" Faith explained diffidently, looking down at her hands, "and then you all had those dreams with the first slayer in them."

"Yes…" Willow said with a slight frown.

"Oh!" Tara exclaimed. "Of course! We should have seen it!"

"Seen _what_?" the redhead asked, a little crossly. Being the last person to solve a puzzle was not a situation she enjoyed.

"The first slayer visited the four of you. All of you who were in the spell." Tara said excitedly, "and then she possessed Buffy's body. We just assumed that she was using a new spell each time. But she _wasn't_. She was still using the spell of joining!"

"You mean it's still in effect?" the redhead frowned, then laughed in a kind of nervous surprise, "You know, it actually makes sense. Faith, you're a genius!"

"Hardly." The brunette protested, as a surprised blush rose in her cheeks, "I should have worked it out a long time ago. Y'see, when I first came back to town B and I had this weird 'connection' thing goin' on. It was like sometimes we could tell what each other was thinking or feeling. We spoke to G-man about it and he said it might be a hang-over from the spell of joining. I should've remembered that when all this stuff first happened with B."

"Well, you've thought of it now." Tara said gently, then turned to her lover. "Willow, you know more about the spell of joining than either of us. Could it still be in operation?"

"Pretty easily, now I think about it." Willow shook her head, "I should have thought of this before. When we cast the spell, Xander, Giles and I all gave our abilities to Buffy. We also called on the slayers to provide theirs. After Buffy beat Adam, the three of us ended the spell and took back our powers. I just assumed that the slayers had done the same. None of us thought at the time that they would object to what we were doing."

"But the first slayer did object … so she kept the spell going?" Faith was struggling to keep up.

"Just part of it." Willow nodded, "Giles, Xander and I aren't connected to Buffy anymore."

"So what now?" the slayer asked, "can you reverse the spell?"

Willow frowned,

"If only I'd known at the _time_." She murmured, "I could have done something then."

"There was no way you could know." Tara reminded the redhead, touching her lightly on the arm as she did so. "Is there anything we can do, now?"

"I'm not sure." Willow looked dismayed, "it's a very powerful spell. I don't think any of the usual rituals will work on it. If only we were still connected to Buffy."

"We are." Tara said quietly, then blushed as the other two girls looked at her in surprise and hope.

"How?" Faith asked, puzzled. She could see the pieces falling into place for Willow, the redhead's lips curling slightly into a smile. Both wicca turned to look at her, the same satisfied expression on their faces. Fleetingly, the slayer had the sensation of being a very small mouse in front of two hungry cats.

Willow laughed softly,

"We've got you, Faith."

The slayer leapt onto the back of the slowest demon, knocking it to the floor. The three others ran on, seeking only escape. _Prey_. Her lips curled into a smile of satisfaction, and she drove her stake into the creature's neck. It twitched and thrashed underneath her, but she stabbed again and again, offering it no chance of escape.

Clutching her bloodied stake, the slayer rose to her feet, sniffing the air. With a low growl, she set off down the street, tracking the smell of the fleeing demons. Within the space of a hundred yards, she caught sight of them again, heading into a disused warehouse.

Somewhere in her mind, a voice tried to whisper a warning. She ignored it. The soul of the slayer she had replaced was growing weak. Soon it would be gone completely, and nothing would distract her from the hunt.

She loped forward, entering the warehouse through a door the prey had left half-open. Within, she stalked slowly through the rows of rusted machinery. The other slayer's soul was frantic now, twisting and screaming within her. Had she no taste for the hunt at all?

A glimpse of the prey, and she dashed after it, plunging through a doorway scant yards behind the demon. There were two loud bangs a bare moment later, and she realised that she had been sealed inside the room. For a moment, she felt a sense of unease. Then the demon, which was locked in with her, gave a howl of surprise and fear.

The slayer smiled coldly. There would be time to find a way out later. Now was the time to hunt.

Angel looked up as Tara and Willow came into the Summers' living room. The two witches were the last to arrive. Like everyone else, they looked anxious and concerned. The vampire tried to keep his own features calm and composed. Despite his centuries of experience, it was not an easy job.

His fingers slipped into the pocket of his coat, touching the note that had been slipped under his door within minutes of sunset. It was written in Darla's sloping, feminine hand.

_We have the blonde slayer. If you want her to live, you'll come for her before dawn._

_William says to tell your friends 'the same place as last time'. They'll know where._

_-- D._

It was a trap, of course. It was entirely possible; even probable; that Spike did not have Buffy at all. But Angel knew that none of them were willing to take the risk of assuming it was a bluff.

They were just waiting now for Giles and Joyce to bring in the tea things. At first, Angel had found this ritual irritating. But after a week, he had begun to appreciate it. There was an element of stability and security to it. A kind of measured patience that helped settle their nerves before the meeting. _I wonder if Rupert realises that_. The vampire suspected that the Englishman knew exactly what he was doing.

To his surprise, Willow and Tara went straight over to Faith and spoke to her quietly, the redhead handing the slayer a small object as they did so. He had thought that things were still cool between Faith and the two witches. It was good to see that they were starting to work well together.

Xander and Anya, on the other hand, seemed to have hit something of a rough patch. They weren't fighting, exactly, but there was definitely something there. At least on Anya's part. Xander appeared to be much the same as he always was.

The tea things made their appearance at last, and Angel cleared his throat.

"Thanks for coming so promptly." He said gravely, "As I told you on the phone, Spike claims to have captured Buffy." He had decided to make no mention of Darla. Except to Faith. The slayer deserved to know what had happened, "He offers no proof, and we have no reason to believe he is telling the truth."

"But we can't risk ignoring it." Xander clenched his fists in his lap, "I knew we shoulda staked the guy while he had that chip in him."

"We won't make _that_ mistake again." Willow nodded sagely. "Chipped vampires get poofed. It's our new Scooby Gang policy." She realised everyone was looking at her and smiled apologetically, "Sorry. I had a mocha this afternoon. It hasn't worn off yet."

"So what we've got is probably a lie, and definitely a trap." Faith shrugged, "I say we bust it wide open. If B _is_ there, we get her out. If not, we settle for pounding some vamps."

"I think we should assume that the Jeneth will also be present." Giles interrupted gently, "In quite some force, I should imagine."

"I know that, G-man." Faith looked frustrated, "but we _have_ to go. We all know that."

"Yeah. What she said." Xander nodded his agreement, "We don't have a choice."

"We need a plan." Giles insisted, "Something to give us an unexpected edge."

"I agree." Tara nodded. There was a moment of surprised silence. The blonde spoke only rarely in their meetings. "I think we should call in some favours."

"Favours?" Angel asked. One thing he knew: when Tara _did_ speak, it was usually worth hearing.

"Favours." She nodded, "There are a lot of people who owe you, or who are friends of yours. People who know what really goes on in Sunnydale. We should ask them to help."

"It makes sense." Anya agreed. "Spike invited his friends. Why shouldn't we?"

"I can call Wesley and Gunn." Angel said thoughtfully, "they could be here by midnight."

"Katie." Faith suggested, meeting his surprised look with a level one of her own, "She'll come, Angel. Leave it to me."

"Amy." Willow snapped her fingers, "she moved out of town, but I have her number."

"I thought she didn't want anything to do with magic, anymore?" Tara objected softly.

"I can see being a rat for two years putting anyone off." Xander agreed.

"She did give it up." Willow admitted, "but this is _Buffy_. Amy will help."

"Jonathon." Giles offered. He frowned at the incredulous looks directed his way by Willow, Anya and Xander, "May I remind you that we were all proud owners of his swimsuit calendar?"

"Who's Jonathon?" Faith asked curiously.

"Don't ask." Xander said nervously, "And I did _not_ have his swimsuit calendar."

"Hansard." Tara added.

"What?" Willow squeaked. The others exchanged blank looks.

"Who are these people?" Faith complained.

"Hansard was that … spy." The redhead answered, frowning at Tara.

"Don't worry, Willow." The blonde smiled gently, "I can deal with him. I know something he'll be willing to trade for."

"I think we should get to work contacting these people immediately." Angel decided it was time to get people on track again. "If you think of anyone else, call them too. But you should only contact people who can get here before two a.m. We'll all meet here then, agreed?"

The others nodded their consent and quickly began leaving. As Faith rose to leave, Angel put his hand on her arm,

"Could I talk to you for a moment?"

The brunette nodded, and they left together, heading for Angel's motel room.

"What's the deal?" the slayer asked curiously.

"I could ask the same of you," he replied, "You and Willow seem to be quite friendly all of a sudden. What was that she gave you?"

"Something that might help B." Faith replied, "If she really is there."

Angel nodded, then sighed. _I can't put this off any longer_.

"When we go into this trap." He said quietly, "Darla may be there."

"She likes you that much?"

"What?" he frowned in confusion, then realised that Faith had misunderstood, "Uh, no. If she is there, it won't be on our side."

"Oh." Faith considered this silently for a few seconds, "Jesus, Angel. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He shook his head, "I should have expected this to happen. I let my instincts blind me."

"Instincts?"

"Darla was my sire." He explained uncomfortably, "That's a powerful bond. I let it influence me."

"So…" Faith stopped and looked at him, "If she is there … what do you want me to do?"

He swallowed. Even now, the words were hard to say,

"I want you to treat her exactly like you would any other vampire."

**Chapter Twenty One**

"Why did I agree to this?" Kate Lockley growled to herself in frustration, agitatedly drumming her fingers on the car's steering wheel.

Gunn didn't answer. Kate wasn't surprised. The young man had barely said a word since she picked him and Wesley up from Angel's office. Of course, even his stoic silence was better than Wesley's incessant chatter. At least the Englishman had dozed off in the back seat. _Though of course, he would have to snore_.

It was the soft half-grunt, half-whistle of the sleeping man's snores that was working on her nerves at the moment. It was bad enough that she was driving to Sunnydale in the middle of the night to save some girl she'd barely met and hadn't liked, let alone that she was doing so at the request of an escaped felon. _But why'd I have to get lumbered with Abbot and Costello as well?_

She swung the car off the highway, taking the exit for the small town of Renfield.

"What was the address?" she flicked a glance at Gunn in the rear-view mirror as he dug out the scrap of paper. He was quite handsome, in a scruffy kind of way. _Pity he's so damn surly_.

"54 Yossarian." Gunn read out, "Like the guy from Catch-22."

"You've read it?" she asked, surprised and then embarrassed at her surprise.

He shook his head,

"Saw the movie. Art Garfunkel is the man."

"Art Garfunkel." The detective raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah. I love the sixties. That was _real_ music."

Kate turned into Yossarian and drew to a stop outside number fifty-four.

"I'll be right back." She said, climbing out of the car. Gunn grunted an acknowledgment.

The girl who answered her knock was shyly pretty, and dressed casually in a sweatshirt and jeans.

"Amy?" Kate hazarded.

"Yeah." The girl nodded, her expression unenthusiastic. "You're one of Willow's friends?"

"Actually, I don't know Willow." Kate confessed, "I uh, work with Angel. He's a friend of Willow's. I was asked to pick you up."

"Oh. Okay." Amy closed and locked the door behind her. They headed back toward the car. "So what's your deal? Are you a vampire slayer?"

"I'm a detective with the LAPD." Kate half-smiled, "hunting monsters is just something I stumbled into. What about you?"

"I'm a witch."

Kate sighed silently. There were definitely times when it was best not to ask any questions.

"What have you done?"

Both Willow and Tara started violently at the sudden question, then slowly recovered themselves.

"Greetings, Elder." the blonde replied as calmly as she could, "I am afraid you will have to lower your wards. I no longer have the sight."

Hansard seemed to appear out of thin air, eliciting a squeak and then a suspicious glare from the redhead.

"What have you done?" he repeated, his toneless voice for once tainted with emotion: a mix of anger and wonder.

"I have been gifted with a soul." Tara answered simply, "The ritual is difficult, but all our people could undergo it, in time. That is, if they abandon their isolation."

"What do you mean?" Hansard asked the question reluctantly. It seemed impossible that the girl could have succeeded where his people had always failed. But the evidence was there before his eyes.

"The ritual uses both human and soulless magic." The redhead interjected, suddenly clutching the blonde's hand. "And it requires a bond between the human and soulless who perform it."

"A bond?" he inquired suspiciously.

The girls nodded in unison.

"The process is dangerous and painful." Willow answered, "It takes a lot to overcome that. I was only able to bear it because I love Tara."

"You called me here merely to claim that everything our lore teaches us is wrong?" he demanded of the blonde, "to revel in blasphemy?"

"No." Tara shook her head, "I called you here to tell you that our people can become human, if they learn to embrace humanity. And to offer you the details of the ritual, in exchange for your services."

Every lesson Hansard had ever learned told him to refuse the offer. To chasten the wayward child of his people. And yet the fact remained that she was no longer one of them. He stood in doubt for a long time, then finally spoke.

"What service do you require?"

Darla sensed Spike climb up onto the rafter behind her. They were perched high in the roof of the warehouse, waiting for the arrival of Angel and his friends.

"How's our guest?" she asked quietly, her lips barely moving.

"Still makin' a racket." The British vampire smelled of cigarette smoke, "it's a good job we reinforced those walls. She'd have been out of there by now if we hadn't."

"Good." The blonde smiled slightly, "With all that noise, they'll head straight to her."

"Right where we want them." Spike agreed, his fingers lightly caressing the back of her neck. Darla shot him an amused glance,

"Does your little filly know you're doing that?"

"Harmony?" he chuckled unpleasantly, "she ain't here, pet. Little cow's off somewhere, sulking."

"And Drusilla?"

He contrived to look puzzled,

"Tor'Kol left her behind. Besides, Dru and I aren't together, luv. You know that."

Darla laughed huskily,

"Don't try that line with me, William. I know you too well."

He shrugged casually, his lean, narrow body relaxed despite their precarious location.

"Once Tor'Kol and his mob are gone, I might see what my chances are." He admitted, "You jealous, luv?"

"Maybe." Darla gave him a coy smile. He laughed softly. Then he stiffened,

"Here they come."

Moments later, the warehouse door swung open below them. Angel was the first inside, then the brunette slayer. Others followed: the group moving together in the direction of the captured slayer.

"Is it just me, or are there more of them than we expected?" she asked quietly.

"It's not just you." Spike frowned, "I don't even recognise most of these jokers."

"Change of plans?"

He nodded,

"We grab the little redhead and we split." He murmured, "Leave Tor'Kol to handle the rough stuff. He can earn his precious Gem the hard way."

"Does that Hansard guy creep you out as much as he does me?" Faith growled softly to Angel as they moved through the warehouse.

"He is unsettling." The vampire conceded, "but effective."

"Yeah." The brunette conceded, her tone making it evident that she still disliked the spy. "Makes a nice change to be springing the ambush for once."

"Don't underestimate Spike." Angel cautioned her, "he may have surprises that Hansard didn't spot."

"I hope not." Faith muttered, "It's bad enough already … vamps in the rafters and Jeneth on the ground. Lots of 'em, too. We woulda got butchered if we'd just walked in here."

"Maybe." Angel quirked an eyebrow, "Though we've come through worse."

"Yeah? When?"

The vampire had no ready answer to that.

"Well I guess they weren't lying about having B." Faith noted. "She doesn't sound too happy about it, neither." Even from halfway across the warehouse, they could hear the furious attempts of the slayer to break free of her prison.

"They'll expect us to go straight for her." Angel remarked.

"So let's not disappoint them." The slayer suggested with a small grin.

"Now." Spike whispered, just loud enough that Darla could hear him.

As he did, small explosive charges blew the lock and hinges of the door imprisoning the slayer. The door spun slowly outward, then crashed to the ground.

For a second, the people on the warehouse floor were frozen by surprise.

Then Buffy burst through the doorway, hurtling toward Angel with a stake raised to strike.

Darla saw the brunette slayer try to intercept the blonde, and be thrown aside almost instantly, crashing into a heavy wooden crate.

Angel and Buffy rolled across the floor, the vampire struggling desperately against the furious slayer.

As they did, the Jeneth burst out of hiding, swarming toward the humans. Vampires also began to drop from the ceiling. Spike looked ready to follow them, but the blonde vampire gripped his arm in gentle restraint. _Best to see if they have any more surprises for us_.

Three vampires falling directly toward the humans struck a magical barrier and exploded in mid-air, dust scattering in all directions. A fourth landed safely some distance to one side of the humans, but a blonde woman in a leather jacket promptly put a crossbow bolt through its heart.

With a roar, the Jeneth rushed out of hiding. By then, six of the humans had formed a small circle of hands, each member facing outward. Sheets of white flame leapt out from them, incinerating two Jeneth in an instant. Elsewhere, the brunette slayer was on her feet again, fighting one of the demons, while the Watcher and three other men dragged down a fourth Jeneth between them.

"_Shit_." Spike cursed vehemently. "They were ready for us."

Darla nodded,

"Someone spilled the plan to them. Are you sure your Harmony is just off sulking?"

"Harm didn't even know what the plan was." Spike snorted, "They tumbled us some other way, pet." He shot her a suspicious look, "You've always been sweet on the poof…"

Darla's hand lashed out, her nails sinking into the flesh of Spike's neck.

"Dear William," she breathed quietly, her eyes cold, "I want Angel dead as much as you. Believe that. And never doubt me again."

"Okay, luv." The British vampire grinned weakly, "I get the message."

Darla smiled sweetly and kissed his forehead,

"You always were a good child, Spike." She used his nickname for the first time, "Now. Let's see about that little redhead of yours."

Faith leapt up, wrapping her legs around the Jeneth's waist, and plunged her knife into its back: twice, three times, four. The demon tried to rake at her with its claws, but she fended with her elbows and stabbed it again. She no longer had any doubts about using the blade. It had been a symbol of the violence between her and Buffy. There was something fitting about using it to help save the blonde slayer. _A sense of redemption_.

The demon toppled, and she jumped clear, landing on her feet. To her left, Willow and the other occult reinforcements lashed out with fire and light, holding the demons and vampires alike back with the force of their magic.

Kate and Gunn dragged a vampire to the ground, the man pinning it while the detective slammed a stake into its heart. A Jeneth reeled past, Wesley draped inelegantly over its head, pounding at the demon with a small club. Giles rushed in, targetting the distracted creature's knees.

_Angel_. The brunette spun in a quick circle, spotting the vampire off to one side of the main struggle, still trying to fend off the determined attack of the blonde slayer. Faith dashed over, grabbing Buffy by the back of her shirt and hauling her bodily off the vampire.

"Get in there!" she yelled at Angel, jerking her head at the melee. "She won't be able to pick you out so easily, then."

The vampire nodded and plunged into the fight. As he did, Faith swung Buffy in the opposite direction, throwing the blonde against some machinery. Hurriedly, the brunette fumbled in her pockets for the talisman Willow had given her.

Buffy recovered quickly. Too quickly. The brunette's fingers had only just clasped around the Talisman when a forearm smashed into the side of her head, knocking her to the ground. Faith rolled blindly, hoping to give herself a little space, but Buffy was on top of her immediately, pinning her shoulders to the ground.

The blonde raised her stake, a snarl of rage twisting her face. Unconsciously, Faith whispered an apology to her, knowing she had failed.

And then Xander slammed into the blonde slayer, knocking her from Faith's chest.

The descending stake slashed across Xander's back and shoulder, tearing the flesh in a long, shallow groove. Faith heard him scream in pain, but was already on her feet, lunging toward Buffy as the blonde raised her stake, ready to finish the boy off.

The stake was already falling when Faith pressed the Talisman's to Buffy's skin.

For the second time, her prey was snatched away from her. She felt the stake catch the newcomer's flesh; smelled his blood as it seeped from the wound. He was human, but she didn't care. Didn't care what any of them were. She would kill them all. They were all prey.

She stabbed down with the stake.

And something touched her forehead. It was cold like ice, sending a spasm through her body. The stake fell from nerveless fingers. She felt herself sink into a white mist.

The slayer was there: the one whose body she wore. She could sense the flickering light of the girl's soul. It did not matter. The slayer was too weak to challenge her. And then she sensed another who was there. One who seemed like a shadow of herself.

The newcomer appeared through the mist. A dark-haired girl, she carried a bloody knife in her hand. The brunette's eyes were old and tired, but her body was young and strong.

"Name's Faith." The girl with the knife said quietly, "the Vampire Slayer."

"No. There is only one." She spoke with Buffy's voice, the blonde girl stepping out of the mist to face the brunette. Dimly, she sensed the slow crawl of time in the real world. The stake had barely left her fingers, was falling eternally through the air.

"Not anymore." Faith shook her head, "Things change. Your time is past. You have to go, now."

"All time is my time. I am eternal."

"No. _We_ are eternal." The brunette tilted her head to one side, her eyes only on the blonde, never on the shadowy figure that crouched behind her. "You in there, B? Time to show this has-been who the real slayer is."

She felt the soul of the blonde girl twist in her mind, struggling to break free.

"Faith." The gently whisper slipped from Buffy's lips before she could prevent it. Then the blonde's expression hardened as she regained control. "Buffy is gone. She was weak and soft. The slayer will hunt as she should, again. Strong and alone."

The brunette laughed,

"You're never goin' to be alone again, grandma." Her tone was mocking, "there are two of us, now. Always will be."

The stake somersaulted in mid-air, still two feet from the ground.

"I'll kill you." She hissed in Buffy's voice.

"Do it." The brunette shrugged, "We all die sometime. And another slayer will be called to replace me, anyway. You'll never be rid of us."

"Then I will take you as well. You are as weak as her."

"You can try." Faith answered levelly, "but I don't think you can take us both at once. Hell, you only beat B because she didn't know she was in a fight. And she ain't out of it yet. Personally, I think she'll beat you. Angel thinks so too. And Giles. And her mom. Red. Xander. They _all_ believe in her. And that's why she'll win. Because we're there for her. But you're all alone."

The stake spun again in the air, now less than six inches from the ground. As it did, the blonde's soul flared in her mind, and slipped from her grasp.

"No." the word was torn from her own throat, guttural and primitive.

"Yes." Buffy and Faith said as one, each turning to face her. The blonde's hand curled around the brunette's, gripping it just as it gripped the knife. "Your time is done."

The stake's tip struck the floor, the point snapping from the impact.

And the blonde and brunette plunged the blade into her, their hands still locked on the hilt. Together.

The stake's tip struck the floor, the point snapping from the impact.

And the blonde and the brunette surged to their feet, a howl of victory bursting from Faith.

Battle turned to rout. The slayers were unstoppable, whirling through the fight without pause. No-one; vampire or demon; could stand against them. Within minutes, the enemy was in full retreat, overwhelmed by the sudden restoration of both slayers.

The humans slowly gathered themselves. Most of them had injuries of some sort, even if they were just bruises or scrapes. Xander was the most seriously hurt: he still lay on his side, his head cradled in Anya's lap. The ex-demoness was stroking his hair gently, a sombre expression on her face.

"How do you feel?" Giles was the first to ask the question of Buffy. His jacket was torn, and his cheek was bloody from a broad graze, but he seemed otherwise unhurt.

In answer, the blonde slayer simply hugged him.

"I love you guys." She mumbled into his chest, feeling tears on her cheek.

"There, there." Giles patted her gently on the back, "It's good to have you back."

"It's good to _be_ back." The blonde smiled and stepped back, wiping her eyes. As she did, she looked around, startled to see so many faces. "Amy!" she exclaimed, then impulsively hugged the other girl, "when did you come back to town?"

"Just tonight." Amy answered softly, "Willow called me and asked me to lend a hand."

Carried away with the moment, Buffy hugged each of the people who had come to help her. Willow returned the hug enthusiastically, while Jonathon turned bright red and lost the power of speech for several minutes afterward. Even those Buffy barely knew were not excepted.

"I have no idea who you are." She told Gunn frankly when he tried to shake her hand instead, "but everybody else has had to be hugged by a smelly, dirty vampire slayer tonight, so you do to." The black man laughed and accepted his fate.

Eventually, even Xander had been given a very careful hug of gratitude, and only Faith and Angel remained.

"Thanks." The blonde said to the brunette slayer, coming to stand in front of her. "For everything."

"No sweat, B." Faith shifted uncomfortably, "Could we skip the hugging thing? It's bad for my image."

"Not a chance." Buffy embraced the other girl resolutely. After a moment's hesitation, the brunette tentatively hugged her back.

"B…" Faith whispered softly, "Riley…"

"I know." Buffy squeezed her eyes shut for a moment as she said the words. She remembered how he had looked when she found him. He had looked so different that for a moment she had not realised who he was. "It wasn't your fault." She would mourn later. Now was a time to concentrate on the good things.

And finally, she came to Angel. Their hug was stiff and uncomfortable, but afterward she was able to smile at him,

"It's nice to know you're still there to help me."

"Always."

Willow walked down the hospital hallway to the soft drink machine. They had brought Xander there after the fight at the warehouse. His cut would need stitches, but obviously wasn't too serious, since he was already making weak jokes about receiving an invalid's pension.

Humming softly, she surveyed her choices. She was tired, but knew she'd be best to avoid anything with caffeine: the night's events had left her wound up already. Deciding on root beer, she tried to put a dollar into the machine. However, the note was a little old and would not feed properly.

"Allow me." A passing blonde woman said gently, taking the dollar and smoothing it carefully. The note slid easily into the machine. A can of root beer clunked into the tray.

"Thanks." Willow smiled at the blonde. She bent to take the can. As she did, she happened to look to her left, and saw Spike leaning casually against the wall, smirking at her.

Slowly, her heart hammering, the witch straightened, still clutching the can in her hand.

"I think you might want to leave." She said quietly to the woman, her eyes still on Spike, "that guy over there looks like he might be a … mugger."

"Oh, I can take care myself." The woman answered calmly.

Willow froze. There was something disturbing about the woman's tone. The redhead turned slowly to look at the blonde.

"You seem familiar." The redhead confessed, "And not in a good way."

When Tara came looking for her a few minutes later, she found only the burst can of root beer, lying in a puddle on the floor.

"'Ere we go, 'ere we go, 'ere we go." Spike chanted as he drove at breakneck speeds through the dark streets of Sunnydale. He was feeling quite pleased with the night's events, and a good soccer song seemed the right way to express that. It was true that the ambush had turned into something of a disaster, which was disappointing. _I really thought we'd get one of the slayers, or at least the big poof_. But he refused to let that trouble him. Any damage the Jeneth might have done would have merely been icing on the cake. They'd failed, but he could live without icing. _I'll give Tor'Kol the Gem, then he and his can piss off_.

That would leave Drusilla all alone, and he would be there to fill the void. They would be whole again. Still chanting under his breath, the vampire checked the back seat in the rear-view mirror. The girl was still unconscious, her head in Darla's lap. Every few seconds the blonde would touch the wounds in the girl's neck, then lick a thin layer of blood from her fingertips.

Spike's smile broadened. The only thing he needed to make Drusilla come back to him was power. And the little redhead was the key to all the power he needed.


	8. Chapter 8 hetero

**Watching Your Back (Part 8)**

**Previously ...**

Faith has returned to Sunnydale, intent on reconciliation with Buffy and her friends. Initially suspicious of the brunette slayer, the gang has slowly accepted her again. Faith's return could not have come at a better time: Buffy has begun to act erratically whilst Spike has been plotting to cause a flood of demons to come to Sunnydale.

During the desperate attempt to thwart Spike's plan, Buffy's erratic behaviour came to a culmination: as a consequence, Spike's plan succeeded and Riley Finn was killed. The cause of Buffy's strange actions was also revealed: she has been possessed by the first Slayer.

In a desperate battle where the gang called in every ally they could find, Buffy was restored and Spike's demon cohorts were dealt a serious defeat. However, the British vampire's own plans are far from finished, and he has now abducted Willow …

**Chapter Twenty Two**

Buffy toweled her hair vigorously, then stared critically into the mirror. Even after thirty minutes in the shower and three doses of shampoo, she looked like she'd been sleeping in a cave for a week. Which she had, but that didn't make her like the look any better. Pulling a mournful face, she wished for another hour in the shower. But the others would be worrying about her by now. Plus, the hot water had run out.

Ducking quickly through the hallway to her room, the blonde slayer pulled on a pair of faded jeans and an oversized T-shirt. She was tempted to take her time and dress to kill, but at four in the morning it hardly seemed worth the effort. _Still, a little something extra wouldn't hurt_.

Checking her jewellery, Buffy's eye fell on a simple gold bracelet. She sighed and picked it up slowly. Riley had given it to her on their six month anniversary. She missed him, in a quiet, gentle kind of way. There was pain, but it wasn't the raw ache she had felt when Angel died. She wondered why that was. She hadn't loved Riley any less.

There was a soft knock at the door,

"You okay in there, B?"

The blonde slayer smiled slightly and gently laid the bracelet back on her dresser. Sometimes questions answered themselves. When Angel died, she had felt utterly alone. After what he friends had done for her tonight, she doubted she could never feel that way again.

Buffy half-turned to the door, then stopped. Slowly, she took down the plain silver cross and fastened it around her neck.

"Yeah, Faith. I'm coming."

Anya sat beside Xander's bed, lightly holding his hand. The young man was lying face down in the hospital bed, his back covered with gauze bandages.

"Geez, looks like Will and Tara have run off on us." He joked feebly, "Just me and my gal, now."

Anya didn't answer, her expression distracted. Concerned, Xander squeezed her hand,

"What's the matter?"

"Do you want to have sex with Faith again?"

Xander's eyes widened. For a few moments, he was genuinely speechless.

"Huh?" evidently the speechlessness still mostly applied.

"_She_ wants to have sex with _you_." Anya continued, almost thoughtfully.

"Anya? What -"

"I can see why you would want sex with her. Faith is very attractive."

Xander squeaked inarticulately. _Don't think that. Don't think about them together. Oh damn_. He breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn't lying on his back.

"Anya. Why -"

"Faith told me about your kiss, Xander."

He felt his stomach lurch. _Faith told her?_ What was the slayer playing at?

"Look Anya, I don't know what Faith told you, but I stopped that kiss -"

"That's what she said." The ex-demoness nodded, "she said it was all her fault and that you stopped it straight away."

"Oh." He couldn't keep the confusion out of his voice.

"You stopped her because you were afraid of what I would do, didn't you?" there was a bleak note to Anya's voice that Xander had not heard before.

"No!" he protested, "Well … not _just_ because of that. I didn't want to hurt you, Anya."

"I think we should break up."

"Huh?" Xander's vocal skills went AWOL again. He struggled to form an actual sentence, but was distracted when the door burst open and Tara ran in, obviously distraught.

"Willow's gone!"

The phone rang just as Buffy and Faith were walking past it. The blonde's heart sank. Phone calls at four in the morning were never good news, particularly when you were the slayer. She picked up the phone on the second ring.

"Summers residence." She answered evenly, aware that the low noise of conversation in the next room had stopped as soon as she picked up the handset.

"It's me." The caller said, unhelpfully. After a moment, Buffy placed the voice.

"Hi, Anya." She glanced at Faith, surprising a guilty look in the brunette's eyes. _What's that about?_ "Is there a problem?"

"Yeah." The ex-demoness paused, "Willow's missing. Tara's hysterical. And Xander and I are breaking up."

"You broke up? Willow's missing?" the slayer refocused her mind on the most important piece of news. Talking to Anya could be a surreal experience.

"Yeah. Tara thinks that Spike must've grabbed her."

The blonde swore under her breath. _I should have known Spike was up to something when he didn't turn up at the warehouse._

"Do we know where his base is, yet?"

"No. We were too busy trying to save you." Anya sounded disapproving. "Hang on." Buffy winced as the other girl dropped her handset with a clatter.

"Buffy?" Tara's voice was hesitant and overwrought as she came on the line.

"Hi, Tara." Buffy did her best to sound confident as well as concerned.

"I can find Willow." The blonde witch mumbled, "but we've got to go now. Spike could kill Willow. Or…"

"I know." The slayer said gently, "I'm not sure who's still here, but we'll come by the hospital and get you straight away. Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to Willow."

"Mornin', ducks." Spike patted Willow gently on the cheek as she slowly recovered consciousness. "time for all good little witches to help out their old mate, Spike."

The redhead looked around slowly, obviously scared but keeping it in check. She was sitting on a large bed in an underground room. Her hands were bound behind her back, whilst her feet were hobbled together with a length of rope perhaps six inches long.

"Buffy is _so_ gonna kick your ass." She said suddenly, almost smiling at the prospect.

"She has to find me first, pet." The vampire reminded her, winding his hand in her hair and pulling her head to one side, "Now, I just need a little spell out of you. Cooperate, and you might get to live. Give me any more lip, and I'll just turn you. I could use a witch on my team."

Willow paled,

"W-what spell? I'll need you to get ingredients!"

Spike shook his head,

"Not this time, pet. I have everything you need. I just need someone with the skill to use them." he tapped her nose with his finger, "and you fit the bill quite nicely there."

The redhead glanced nervously between Spike and the gently smiling Darla, then sighed.

"What's the spell?"

"It's called the Harvest."

"The Harvest?" Willow looked appalled, then frowned, "I thought that needed to be on a special night … one that only came once a century."

"That's the thing about mystical conjunctions," Spike smiled nastily, "you go a hundred years without one, then get three all at once. It's like the buses."

Willow looked confused. Spike sighed. _Californians_.

"I'm kidding, pet." He smirked, "there's more than one ritual known as the Harvest."

"Do people still die?" the redhead asked suspiciously. Spike shrugged,

"Just one."

"Then I won't do it." Willow swallowed, scared but resolute.

"Listen here, ducks." Spike gripped her by the throat, tightening his grip just enough to make breathing difficult, without cutting it off completely. "I wouldn't need this ritual if you and your slayerette army hadn't interfered tonight. Killing the slayers would have been enough to win Dru back. But since you stopped that, I'll just have to go with my back-up plan."

"Uh stull wunt do ut." The redhead choked the words out in spite of Spike's grip on her throat.

The British vampire swore and raised his fist.

"William." Darla interrupted gently, laying a hand on his arm. "A word?"

The two vampires moved out of Willow's earshot, but remained between her and the only exit.

"Why don't you just turn her?" the blonde asked Spike, her fingers still resting on his arm. "She'll cast the spell willingly enough, then."

He shook his head slightly,

"Can't. I want her to cast Varizhin's Harvest."

Darla's eyebrow quirked,

"I thought the knowledge of that ritual had been lost."

"So was the Gem of Fey'R." Spike reminded her, with a smug grin. "You like the plan?"

"William, it's _delicious_." Darla breathed, and kissed him firmly on the lips, "her blood is sweet already, but filled with the power of the Harvest -"

"Manna from Hell." Spike agreed, "The only problem is convincing the little witch to do it. This isn't a love spell I'm asking her to cast: it's black as they come. She'll see that straight away."

"It is a problem." Darla mused, glancing at Willow, who glared back. "Even if you could convince her to do it, she might make a mistake. Or deliberately sabotage the ritual."

Spike nodded,

"I just want Dru back." He complained, "even arranging the death of _one_ slayer would have been enough for that. But no, they _both_ had to live. After the disaster tonight, I need something special to win her back."

Dimly, they heard a furious voice bellow Spike's name. Tor'Kol of the Jeneth was back from the night's battle, and he sounded far from pleased.

"Go see to your demon friends." Darla licked her upper lip gently, " Leave the witch to me. What she needs is a woman's touch."

"Trouble?" Angel asked as soon as Buffy and Faith came into the living room. The blonde slayer nodded,

"Spike's taken Willow. Tara thinks she can use a spell to find her, but we need to get up to the hospital straight away." She glanced around the room, "That is, if you are all willing to help."

"I'm in." Faith folded her arms confidently, "What about you, Katie?"

Detective Lockley shot an exasperated look at the brunette slayer,

"You take a lot for granted, Faith." She grumbled. "I've already risked my neck for your friends once tonight. What makes you think I want to do it again?"

"Why'd you become a cop?" Faith grinned insolently at the Detective's filthy look.

Kate sighed,

"All right, I'm in."

"We shall of course, assist." Wesley volunteered, while Gunn merely nodded silently.

"Amy?" Buffy asked, turning to the last person in the room. Giles had already left to take Jonathon home. Privately, she was glad. This was likely to get rough. "I don't want you to get in the thick of things again." _Faith and I will have words about the risks she let people take_. "But you might be able to help Tara with her spell?"

The blonde sighed, lifting her hand to chest height. It was trembling visibly.

"I'm scared out of my mind." She admitted, "But Willow's my friend. I'll try to help Tara."

"What can I do?" a new voice spoke from behind the slayers.

Buffy turned. Joyce Summers stood at the entrance to the living room, wearing her dressing gown.

"Mom." The blonde said weakly. "I thought you were asleep."

"The phone woke me." Joyce replied, "Now, there must be something I can do."

Buffy opened her mouth, trying to think of some way to dissuade her mother. But before she could say anything, Faith spoke up.

"Actually, Mrs S., would you be willing to go to the hospital? Xander's hurt, and it would be good if someone could be there with him." The brunette flicked a sideways glance at Buffy, "Since Anya will probably come with us, yeah?"

"Maybe." The blonde slayer smelled gossip. _Big gossip_. But she had more important things on her mind, and this seemed a safe option for occupying her mother. "That would be a big help, Mom."

Joyce looked unconvinced, but nodded after a short hesitation.

"Okay." Buffy nodded in satisfaction. "Mom, you've got two minutes to get dressed. We need to get out to the hospital as soon as we can."

"Your vampires were useless." Tor'Kol rumbled belligerently at Spike. "And _you_ did not even fight. This betrayal invalidates our agreement. I should kill you where you stand."

"No need to be hasty, mate." Spike said soothingly, "I promised you the Gem whatever happened, didn't I?"

"True." The Jeneth rumbled, "But after your duplicity tonight, I did not expect you to keep that promise, either."

"The slayers surprised me with their reinforcements." Spike admitted, "and once it was obvious that they were well-prepared for our ambush, I felt it wisest to cut my losses. I regret the casualties your people suffered as a consequence."

"A pretty lie." Tor'Kol said disdainfully, "you care nothing for the deaths of my followers."

Spike shrugged an admission of his insincerity.

"At least your consort was not in any danger." He remarked, "It would have been unfortunate if she had been hurt before you could take her to the demonic planes."

Tor'Kol's lip curled,

"Drusilla was once your consort, was she not?"

"Ancient history, mate." Spike shrugged, "She's with you, now."

"I am not the fool you think I am, Spike." The Jeneth sneered, "You know as well as I that Drusilla cannot journey to the demonic planes. They are habitable only by true demons and our victims. You hope to make her your consort once more. Perhaps, if you had not run from battle tonight, she would have accepted you." The demon's tone made it clear he did not think it likely, "But she will have nothing to do with one so lacking in courage as you have proved to be."

Spike's eyes narrowed, but he restrained his anger. His followers had suffered just as much as the Jeneth in the recent battle, and were unlikely to feel any great loyalty toward him in the aftermath of the defeat. _Besides, after the little witch does the ritual, I'll be so strong that Dru will have no choice but to love me_.

Aloud, he said merely,

"I'm more resourceful than you might think, Tor'Kol. After all, _I_ found the Gem, not you." He lit a cigarette calmly, "Speaking o' which, why don't I take you to go get it?"

"Hi, Tara." Joyce greeted the blonde girl as she got out of the car. Behind her, Buffy climbed excitedly into the driver's seat.

"Hi, Mrs Summers." Tara answered in a subdued voice, then hurried around to get into the front passenger seat, which Buffy had just vacated. Joyce turned to watch her, feeling sympathy for the blonde. _She's obviously frantic about Willow_.

"Isn't Anya coming?" Buffy asked Tara as she over-revved the engine.

The blonde shook her head,

"She and Xander were too busy arguing."

"Drive carefully, dear." Joyce interrupted nervously. Buffy was by now actually a fairly competent driver, but she did have a tendency to get a little enthusiastic.

"Love you, Mom!" the slayer called back cheerily, roaring away from the curb. Her mother caught a brief glimpse of several pale faces in the back seat before the car was out of sight.

Suppressing the concern she always felt whenever Buffy went out to do her slaying, Joyce headed quickly inside. After four years in Sunnydale she could navigate around the hospital almost without thinking. Just another of the skills intrinsic to being a 'slayer mom'.

As she approached the room she could hear raised voices inside. Evidently Anya and Xander's argument was still continuing. Deciding that it would be wise to give them some warning, Joyce knocked and waited for a count of five before entering the room.

By then, Anya was perched sullenly on a chair as far away from the bed as she could get, whilst Xander was scowling into his pillow.

"Hi, Mrs Summers." The boy mumbled. A moment later, Anya echoed his greeting.

"Hello, both of you." Joyce paused, wondering if she should ask any questions. Neither of the two young people seemed to have a good relationship with their parents, but it might be better not to pry. Then again, sitting here in silence wouldn't be very comfortable either. "Are you two having problems?"

For a moment, they were both silent, and Joyce regretted asking the question. _It'll be something about vampires, or slime demons, or a magical plague_.

"Xander kissed another girl." Anya announced in sulky tones.

"I did n-" the boy began instinctively, then broke off, "Okay. I did. But it was just the once. And I put a stop to it straight away."

Joyce's eyes gleamed. Most things in her daughter's life confused her. Even Buffy's romances were a minefield of vampires and monster-hunting commandos. But this was classic Mom territory.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, hopefully.

"Now, my sweet." Darla sat behind Willow and gently caressed the witch's arms, causing the redhead to flinch slightly. "Spike tends to get a little angry sometimes. And when he's like that he doesn't explain himself very well."

"And you think you can do a better job?" Willow asked nervously.

"Let's just say that I couldn't do worse." Darla answered, a throaty chuckle underlying the words. She saw a little of the tenseness ease in the back of the girl's neck and moved her hands higher, rubbing gently over the knotted muscles. It was always best to be pleasant at first. _It makes the later stages more exciting_.

"Now." She said calmly, her fingers still massaging, "All William wants is to get his Drusilla back. For that, he just wants you to perform a simple little ritual."

"Someone will die!" Willow objected, some of the tenseness returning to her back. "And would you stop doing that?" she shifted her shoulders.

"Why? Doesn't it feel better?"

"Well, yeah." The redhead admitted, "But it's also really creepy."

The blonde vampire laughed softly and stopped the massage.

"Well, we can't have that." She paused, then continued. "It's just one person, you know. And then Spike will be out of your life forever. If you say no, he'll turn you instead. And then you'll end up doing the ritual anyway." Darla told the lie smoothly, with no hesitation to give her away. "William would just prefer not to have to wait for you to rise."

"Why?" Willow asked curiously, "He's waited months to get her back already."

"Yes, but the lady in question might leave town at any time." Darla murmured into the redhead's ear.

"She's here?" the witch squeaked, horrified.

"Oh yes." Darla smiled, "the mad little slut's here, all right."

"I take it you don't like her." the redhead's tone was dry.

"You're coping very well with your abduction." Darla changed the subject.

"I've had practice." Willow answered shortly.

"Yes. Being the slayer's best friend must be a dangerous business." Darla agreed. "So now you know why William is in a hurry. But think of all the people who will be hurt if he has to turn you, instead. Your sweet little girlfriend, for starters. Probably your parents, too. For some reason the children of my line tend to have issues with their human forebears."

"So what you're saying is that if I kill one person, Tara gets to live." Willow said quietly.

"Exactly." Darla nodded slowly, "Surely she's worth more than a single stranger?"

"Not to the stranger's family."

The blonde vampire sighed softly.

"Am I to take it that your answer is 'no'?"

"I won't do it."

"Good." Darla smiled, burying her teeth into the witch's neck.

Willow cried out, arching her back, but Darla gripped her arms tightly, holding her in place. The blood was sweet and strong. Not as potent as that of a slayer, but rich with magic and power.

And then there was a burst of shouts from outside the room, followed by the sound of running feet and fighting. Darla moaned in frustration, drawing her bloodied mouth away from the girl's neck.

"Why is it always in the middle of dinner?" The blonde complained plaintively, then slid off the bed and stood, letting her face revert to its human appearance.

"Don't go anywhere." She smiled sweetly at Willow, then backhanded the redhead roughly, knocking the girl unconscious. Her expression calm, Darla went to see what had gone wrong.

"There ya go, mate." Spike gestured at the dark wooden box which sat in the secluded underground chamber. "Your precious gem. As promised."

Tor'Kol stalked forward and reached out for the chest. His hand inches away from the lid, he suddenly paused.

"Lor'Dok." The Jeneth leader addressed the only bodyguard he had brought with him. "If this is a trap, ensure that our host survives a long time before his torture ends."

The Jeneth named Lor'Dok nodded silently, moving to stand just behind Spike.

"That's not very trustin' of you, Tor'Kol." The British vampire shook his head, "I'm ashamed to think that your opinion of me is so low."

"You have only your own actions to blame for _that_." Tor'Kol replied calmly, putting his hand on the lid of the chest and opening it.

For a few seconds, the Jeneth stood utterly still. Then slowly he turned, and the look in his eyes spoke of pain and death.

"Is this some kind of joke, vampire?" each word was thick with venom and fury.

"What are you talkin' about, mate?" Spike asked, surprised and a little nervous, "It's the Gem of Fey'R, as promised."

"_This box is empty!_" the Jeneth roared, hurling the chest against the wall with a sweep of his arm. The box shattered on the stone, fragments of wood exploding in all directions.

Spike's mouth worked silently, in shock and horror. Lor'Dok's strong hands grabbed him from behind, preventing any chance of escape.

"_Where_ is the Gem?" Tor'Kol demanded, towering over the vampire. "Our seers confirmed that it was in your possession, vampire. What have you done with it?"

"Mate, I swear I thought it was in there!" Spike couldn't take his eyes off the debris that had once been the chest. _ Where the hell is it?_

Tor'Kol reached out and grabbed the vampire's forearm. Taking a long look into Spike's eyes, he wrenched sharply, snapping bone and cartilage.

Spike howled, his knees sagging. Only Lor'Kol's iron grip on him prevented the vampire from falling to the floor.

Tor'Kol leaned forward, his massive face coming within inches of Spike's own.

"That answer is not acceptable, vampire." His voice was a low rumble of menace. "I suggest you think of a better one."

**Chapter Twenty Three**

Amy watched with a mixture of fascination and nervousness as the girl named Tara put the finishing touches to their locating spell. Before spending two years as a rat, she had considered herself a pretty powerful witch. But the other girl was something else entirely: she used techniques Amy had never seen before, and worked with a speed that was dizzying.

And she was Willow's girlfriend. That was a weird thing to deal with. _Willow and I used to share a bed when we slept-over!_ Okay, they had only been ten at the time. And it wasn't like she had anything against Willow's choice. Plus, Tara seemed very nice. It was just really unnerving to spend two years 'away' and come back to find something like that had changed.

_Focus_. She scolded herself mentally. What Willow did was absolutely none of her business. And it was obvious that the two girls shared a connection.

She frowned, her mind replaying the incantations Tara had used.

"You and Willow are joined, aren't you?" she whispered.

Tara nodded slowly, blushing,

"It's why I can find Willow, though we could never locate Spike's base." She explained shyly, keeping her voice too low for the others to hear. "The link between us lets me get through the barrier spells he has up to hide himself."

Amy rocked back on her heels, glancing over at the others. There had not been enough room to perform the ritual inside the car, and so the two witches were crouched by the side of the road, having just completed the locating spell.

She didn't know much about spells which affected the casters' own souls, but she knew they were very dangerous. Tara and Willow must have cared very deeply for one another to have risked performing such a ritual. _If I had someone who loved me that much, I wouldn't care what sex they were either_.

She leaned over and laid her hand on the other girl's arm.

"Don't worry. We'll get her back."

Giles swore mildly when he saw the blinking light on his answering machine. A message this late at night could only mean trouble of some sort. He hurried over and pressed 'play', already shrugging back into his coat as he did so.

"Hey, G-man." Faith's voice bellowed. There was a lot of background noise for her to shout over. It sounded to Giles like she was in a car, talking on a cell phone, "Spike's got Red. We just swung by the hospital to pick up Tara. She says she can find Willow. Mrs S. is staying there with Xander. He's in room 324. B wants you to go check on them as soon as you get this message. Y'know, you bein' the man of the house, 'n all."

There was a squawk of outrage in the background, prompting a smoky laugh from Faith, before the message came to an abrupt halt.

Giles hurried out of the apartment, taking time only to carefully lock the door behind him. He drove to the hospital without thinking about it: the route was so familiar it was almost automatic. Instead, his mind kept turning back to Faith's message. They had only just managed to get Buffy back, and already the next crisis had appeared. His hands tightened on the steering wheel, then relaxed slowly. During his training, it had always been emphasised that there should be no personal relationship between the Slayer and her Watcher. At the time, it had seemed to make sense, as had the requirement for the Slayer to operate in secret. His failure to abide by those rules had ultimately cost him his position as Buffy's Watcher. For a long time afterward, he had questioned his role and value in Sunnydale. He had even come close to returning to England on a couple of occasions.

As he drove through the streets, the Englishman felt an strange sense of calm. Naturally, he was deeply concerned for Willow's safety. But Buffy, Faith and the others were already going to the redhead's aid. If she could be saved, they would be do it. Because they were working together. That was their strength.

Now, as Giles thought about the times that things had seemed bleakest; Buffy's disappearance, Faith's alliance with the Mayor, the last days before they defeated Adam; he realised that each had been brought on by a sense of isolation and dissent within the group. Buffy had fled Sunnydale because she felt alone. Faith had turned to the Mayor for much the same reason. And Spike had turned them all against one another at Adam's behest. During those times, they had been at their weakest.

These young people took on so much responsibility that he often forgot just how young they were. If he did nothing else in Sunnydale than remind them that they could always rely on his friendship and support, he would be doing more than could be measured.

Whistling tunelessly, Giles parked at the hospital and hurried inside. It was well outside visiting hours, but the hospital staff had given up trying to enforce that rule with their group. It was another part of the town's tacit acknowledgment that things in Sunnydale were far from 'normal'.

As Giles arrived at the doorway of room 324, he paused. All three occupants were silent. Xander was staring moodily at the wall, whilst Anya looked like she had been crying. Only Joyce seemed relatively relaxed as she came over to give him a welcoming hug.

"Is everything all right?" he asked softly, kissing her cheek.

"I think so." Joyce answered, her eyes creasing briefly in concern. "They've just had a little fight. They've got some things sorted out, now."

"Quite." Giles nodded, feeling a deep sense of relief that he hadn't arrived any earlier. Offering his support and friendship was all very well, but meddling in romantic liaisons was best left to a professional, in his opinion.

Tor'Kol hit Spike again. He was swinging his fists easily, not unleashing the full power of his arms, but each blow still sent a shudder through the vampire's entire body.

"You expect me to believe that the Gem has disappeared from the depths of your own stronghold?" he growled at his semi-conscious victim. "Without your knowledge? How could this be?"

"I … don't … bloody … know." Spike gasped slowly, his eyes not quite focused. "Maybe … that eerie bastard … Hansard. Maybe he took it."

"Hansard?' Tor'Kol frowned. It was not a name he had heard before.

"Spy." Spike muttered, slumped in Lor'Dok's grip. "C'n make himself … invisible."

"Did he know about this chamber?"

Spike laughed harshly, then winced.

"Christ knows. Wasn't … supposed to … but _was_ a spy."

Tor'Kol scowled. Now that his anger had cleared, he was beginning to believe that the vampire genuinely did not know what had happened to the gem. Had Spike planned treachery, he would never have come alone to this room with two Jeneth.

"Very well." He rumbled slowly. "I accept that you have acted in good faith in this matter."

As Spike smiled in relief, Tor'Kol nodded to Lor'Dok.

"Kill him."

Incompetence could no more be tolerated than betrayal.

The two vampires on guard died without ever realising that an attack had started.

Tara had been as good as her word: not only had her and Amy's locating spell led their group straight to Spike's lair, but she had also protected the slayers from detection until they got close enough to surprise the guards.

Now, as wards concealing them fell away, Buffy and Faith plunged into the lair, the others close behind them. Four vampires and one Jeneth died within seconds, taken completely by surprise. Others fled, spreading the alarm.

As soon as the room was secure, the attackers split into three groups. Screaming like a Banshee, Faith led Buffy deeper into the lair. The two slayers had a mission to be as loud and visible as they could be, shouting abuse and taunts at the vampires and demons they encountered. It was up to them to distract as much attention as they could away from the others.

As soon as the slayers had gone, Tara and Amy cloaked themselves and Wesley in protective wards. Sweat appeared on their faces within minutes, showing the strain the spell was placing on them. But while the spell was in effect, they would be overlooked by those who did not know they were there to look for them.

"How long can you hold it?" Wesley asked Tara in concern. He had been designated to 'protect' the two witches, but they all knew that if they were discovered the best he could do was buy them some time to run.

"As long as we need." Tara grimaced, "Willow is this way." She pointed, and the three set off. It was their job to find the redheaded witch and get her safely back to the entrance of the lair.

Left in the first chamber, Angel, Gunn and Kate prepared calmly for the fight to come. The demons would send guards to seal the entrance, trying to trap the attackers within the lair. It was up to them to keep the group's escape route open.

Spike's head jerked up at Tor'Kol's words. The sudden movement caused his vision to blur.

"Now wait a minute, mate …"

Keeping his grip on Spike's left shoulder as strong as ever, Lor'Dok released the right and reached for a stake. As he did so, the war cries of two battle-ready slayers echoed through the lair. For a moment, the sudden noise caused the Jeneth's grip to relax slightly.

Spike threw himself forward, jerking out of Lor'Dok's hands. He felt weak and dizzy, dangerously close to passing out, but years of instinctive survival stood him in good stead. The British vampire ducked under Tor'Kol's reaching arms and ran out of the room.

Lor'Dok moved to follow, but Tor'Kol shook his head.

"There will be time enough for Spike." He said slowly, "Go to protect Drusilla. I will find the slayers. It is time to take revenge for those we lost at the warehouse."

Tara stumbled and sagged against the wall, panting for breath.

"Are you all right?" Wesley asked, glancing around nervously.

The blonde shook her head,

"Too many spells." She whispered, her eyes closed. She was very pale and covered in sweat. Wesley pressed a hand to her face, feeling how cold her skin was. "I can't …"

"I can." Amy said quietly, wiping a sheen of perspiration from her face. "Draw on me."

"No." Tara whispered, "You're just as tired."

"No, I'm not." Amy's voice was firm. She was proud of that. In truth, she was bone weary, her reserves all but exhausted. But Tara had borne far more of the burden than her. _I have to take some of the load off her, now_.

For a moment, Tara looked like she would refuse. Then she nodded tiredly, releasing the wards she had bound around them.

Amy staggered as it fell to her to support all the wards alone. It felt like an enormous rock had been strapped to her back, secured with straps which were too tight to let her breathe. But she held it. _Maybe I could have been a powerful witch, after all_.

Tara pushed herself off the wall, pointed down a tunnel.

"This way." She said quietly.

Buffy and Faith burst into a new chamber, then skidded sharply to a halt.

The vampire they had been chasing now dangled in the right hand of the largest Jeneth they had seen: a huge, broad-shouldered monster a good seven feet tall.

"Nice outfit." The blonde slipped her hair back, eyeing the demon's tailored suit.

"Thank you." The Jeneth rumbled, hurling his captive into the wall. The vampire crumpled to the ground, knocked unconscious by the impact. "My name is Tor'Kol. I am Clan Chief."

"Thanks for sharing." Faith nodded, "we'll make sure it goes on your headstone."

The Jeneth laughed, the sound a deep bass rumble.

"Such confidence. Which of you will fight me first?"

For a moment the two slayers looked at one another, then Faith smirked.

"What's this 'first' crap?"

They leapt forward together.

Tor'Kol swept out his arms, slapping aside their blows. He was strong and fast, and his size gave him a huge advantage of reach. Both slayers dropped back quickly, getting out of range of those big, powerful hands. The two stood together, not more than a yard apart.

"He's good." Faith muttered.

"Yeah." Buffy agreed. "Big, too."

"They all look big to you, B."

"That better not be a height gag, you floozy."

"I had expected more honour from the slayers.." Tor'Kol rumbled, "and less foolish chatter."

"Honour?" Faith snorted, "Even with my sidekick here, you outweigh us by a hundred pounds."

Tor'Kol charged.

The slayers leapt apart, ducking under the wide sweep of his arms. One of them even landed a glancing blow on his shoulder, but it had no effect on his thick, leathery skin.

"The hell with this." Buffy muttered, dashing forward as Tor'Kol turned.

"B!" Faith cried out in surprise. The Jeneth's mouth broadened into a wide smile as he swept his arms wide, grabbing at the slightly built Slayer.

Buffy ducked.

Tor'Kol's hands clutched at air as the blonde slid between his legs and leapt to her feet, smashing a spinning kick into the demon's back.

He stumbled a half step, roared and started to turn.

Faith leapt forward, wrapping herself around one of Tor'Kol's arms, keeping the demon sufficiently distracted that Buffy was able to dodge his blow.

Snarling, the Jeneth grabbed Faith's jacket with his free hand, hauling her off him and dangling her in the air.

"Now." He rumbled, shaking her roughly. The brunette's teeth rattled. "I have you -"

Faith twisted, stabbing her knife into the arm that was holding her. Tor'Kol bellowed, but held his grip. The brunette stabbed again, and the Jeneth reached for her with his free hand.

Buffy hammered her foot into the demon's knee, following up with two more quick kicks to his side. The sudden barrage of blows distracted him for a moment, and Faith wormed out of her jacket with a speed born of practice.

Landing lightly on the floor, the brunette smashed a roundhouse kick into the demon's face, then followed up by slamming her knife deep into his stomach. Tor'Kol grunted and back-handed her. Faith was knocked back a dozen feet, but rolled and came to her feet with smooth grace. A dark bruise began to form on her face.

Buffy struck at the Jeneth again, her feet and fists connecting with his back and side. Ducking left of Tor'Kol's reaching hand, she aimed a kick at it, her boot smashing bones in two of his fingers.

The brunette struck from the other side, keeping up the barrage of blows.

Tor'Kol fought back, his huge fists sweeping through the air. Several times, one or the other slayer was knocked from her feet by a glancing hit. But try as he might, the demon could never land a solid blow. And the constant impacts of the Slayers' blows, together with the injuries he had sustained, slowly began to take the edge off his speed.

The two girls landed blows more and more readily, but the demon kept fighting, some of his blows coming dangerously close to ending their lives. All it would take was one lucky hit.

"Any ideas?" Faith panted, as they fell back after another flurry of blows. The fight had only last a few minutes, but they needed to finish it before any other demons or vampires turned up.

"Just one." Buffy nodded. "You go for his legs."

The brunette nodded and charged in, striking low and hard, concentrating all her blows on Tor'Kol's left leg. Buffy kept to the demon's front and right, doing enough to distract him from catching Faith.

And then a blow landed with enough force to drop the Jeneth momentarily to one knee. Instantly, the blonde slayer saw her opportunity. She stepped in and kicked up, her boot driving into the softer skin of Tor'Kol's throat. There was a soft, wet crunch as the bones of his neck gave way under the blow.

Slowly, the huge demon toppled to the floor.

"How'd you feel?" Faith asked.

"Let's get back to the entrance." Buffy winced. Even Tor'Kol's glancing blows were powerful: she was certain she had at least two cracked ribs. "And you're the sidekick here, by the way."

"Me?" Faith looked set to argue, then grinned suddenly. "Okay. You can be the Green Hornet and I'll be Kato."

"Who?"

Kate fired her last four rounds into the snarling face of a Jeneth, thankful that the demons could be killed with bullets. In most other ways, they were far tougher than vampires.

Beside her, Gunn stood ready with a knife and a stake. He had lost his crossbow when the second group of vampires attacked.

Holstering the handgun, Kate suppressed a yelp of surprise when a cold hand clasped her shoulder.

"Sorry." Angel apologised. "You two okay?"

"Yeah, man." Gunn actually sounded as if he were enjoying himself, despite the bloody cut on his left arm. "Cop-lady here's been gettin' down with the hand artillery."

"Good." Angel replied calmly, "the others should be back soon. Their time is up."

The sound of running feet reached them suddenly.

Gripping her stake tightly, Kate hoped grimly that it was some of their group, rather than another wave of demons.

Moments later, the two witches burst into the chamber, closely followed by a heavily-laden Wesley, who had Willow draped across his shoulders in a fireman's carry.

Angel took the unconscious girl from the purple-faced Englishman, who wheezed an expression of gratitude, then sank to his knees and sprawled on the floor, gasping for breath.

"How is she?" Kate asked Angel, her eyes not leaving the tunnel she was guarding.

"Alive." He answered shortly, then turned to Tara, "Was she like this when you found her?"

The blonde nodded,

"She had been left in a room. It was locked, but Wesley picked it."

"W's noth'n." The Englishman was still to out of breath to form complete words.

With a pounding off feet, Buffy and Faith rounded the nearest corner of the tunnel and charged into the room. Both were dishevelled and bruised, but appeared to have avoided serious injury.

"Is she okay?" Buffy's face had paled at the site of Willow.

"Yes." Angel nodded, "she's been bitten, but hasn't lost enough blood for it to be life-threatening."

"Then let's get gone." Faith suggested, "The fun's all over, here, anyway."

"Oh dear, Miss Edith." Drusilla whispered, "Daddy's asleep."

Lor'Dok stared down at the sprawled body of his former Clan Chief with a mixture of satisfaction and regret. Satisfaction that he would now be Clan Chief; regret that he would never have the honour of taking Tor'Kol's life himself.

"It's time to leave." He growled, taking Drusilla's arm.

"No." she said, shaking her arm free. "Daddy's still asleep. We mustn't wake him."

The Jeneth sighed. He had never understood what Tor'Kol saw in the vampiress. He reached out for her again, not sure if he would kill her or not.

He never got to make the choice.

Spike's blade sank deeply into the back of his neck, driving up into the demon's brain. Lor'Dok blinked slowly, a soft noise of surprise coming from his throat, then toppled to the ground, his shocked face staring at the ceiling.

The British vampire smirked, cradling his injured arm against his chest.

"Not so much fun when _I'm_ behind _you_, is it mate?" he muttered, then gave Drusilla his most charming smile. "It's time to go, love."

"Can't go." Drusilla cradled Miss Edith tenderly, "Daddy's still asleep."

Spike glanced at Tor'Kol and sighed. Walking over to the body, he kicked it twice.

"He's not asleep, pet. He's dead."

"Dead?" the dark-eyed brunette repeated slowly.

"That's right, pet. Dead as he can be." Spike demonstrated by delivering another pair of kicks to the Jeneth's body.

"You killed him." Drusilla whispered.

"What?" Spike smiled nervously, "No, pet. Not me. The Slayers killed him."

Drusilla crouched and put Miss Edith on Lor'Dok's chest. Gently, she arranged his arms so that he was cradling the doll.

"Dru?" Spike reached out carefully with his good hand.

She screamed and sprang at him, her nails raking like claws.

Spike fell back before the onslaught, vainly trying to protect himself with one arm. Drusilla's nails racked his arm and face. He swore and tripped, falling against the wall. Unhurt, he could have knocked her out and forced her to come with him. As badly injured as he was, there was little the British vampire could do to fight off the furious brunette.

"You killed him." She repeated mournfully, drawing a stake from inside the folds of her robe.

Spike raised his arm in a futile attempt at self-defence, knowing that he could not stop the blow from falling.

A pale arm snaked under Drusilla's upraised arm, then reached back to grab her by the hair. Darla's face appeared over the brunette's shoulder. As always, she seemed calm and composed.

Drusilla struggled, but the blonde was too strong, wrenching back on the brunette's hair.

"Now." Darla said thoughtfully, "What to do? William wants you back, Drusilla. I really don't know why."

"I love her." Spike said in a surly voice, struggling to rise to his feet.

"Stay there, William." Darla's voice was sharp, but it was the stake she pressed to Drusilla's chest that really got his attention. Slowly, the British vampire subsided.

"William loves you." The blonde mused softly.

"Spike loves me." Drusilla murmured, her face dreamy. Then her expression grew hard, "Spike killed Daddy!"

Darla moved her lips to Drusilla's ear, whispering softly.

"I never understood what Angelus thought he was doing when he turned you." Her voice was sour, "We were a happy family. Strong and powerful. You … you were a disgrace. An embarrassment to us all."

The blonde thrust suddenly with the stake, driving it deep into Drusilla's heart. A moment later, the woman Spike had loved was nothing more than dust, drifting slowly to the ground.

The British vampire stared up at his great-grandsire, fear evident in his eyes.

"What about me, luv?" he asked quietly, "Am I an embarrassment as well?"

Darla sighed,

"Just get up, William. And stop feeling so sorry for yourself."

**Chapter Twenty Four**

Faith sat on the Summers' staircase and took a sip of the beer she was holding. Normally she was more of a 'slug it back' kind of person, but it had taken over fifteen minutes of coaxing to get Giles and Joyce to let her have even one beer. At that rate of effort to reward, she planned to get the most she could out of each bottle.

"Hey." Buffy came down the staircase and perched on the step next to Faith.

"Hey, yourself." Faith replied quietly, offering the bottle to the blonde. Buffy wrinkled her nose.

"No thanks. The last time I drank beer was … not good."

"Major hangover?"

"That too, but it was mainly the evil magical curse which gave me the wiggins."

Faith smiled tightly and Buffy frowned,

"What's the matter?" she asked quietly, "you're the hero of the hour. Last night you saved me and helped save Willow. Mom and Giles just wanted to say 'thank you' for that. And believe me, from the way Mom keeps hugging me every ten minutes, they're going to keep on thanking you."

"We got lucky with Red." Faith took another sip from the beer, listening to the soft sounds of conversation in the next room. Giles and Joyce were playing gin rummy with Willow and Tara. "Most of the vamps bolted as soon as we went in. It was only the Jeneth who stayed to fight."

"Okay, what's up?" Buffy touched her arm, "I'm not going to go away until you spill."

"I'm leaving." Faith blurted the words out, then took a deep mouthful of beer to stop herself from saying any more.

"What?" Buffy looked stunned, "but -"

"But nothin', B." Faith shook her head, "I'm going to go back to Boston. The East Coast needs a slayer, too."

"The East Coast doesn't have a Hellmouth." The blonde reminded her, "We need you here. We _want_ you here."

"Not all of you." Faith realised she was out of beer. _Typical. Just when I could really do with another slug of it_. "I kissed Xander, B."

"Oh." Buffy's eyes widened, "Mom said he and Anya had a fight."

"Yeah." The brunette nodded, "I told Anya. I didn't want her to hear some other story. And I promised her I'd bail after we got you back."

"I'll talk to Anya." Buffy said firmly.

Faith couldn't stop a flicker of surprise showing in her eyes. The blonde saw it.

"We need you here, Faith." She repeated, "Spike did one of his disappearing acts last night. Besides, this _is_ the Hellmouth. I guarantee the world will need saving again before we get to finals."

Despite herself, the brunette smiled, but she still shook her head.

"You don't need me, B. You've got a whole team to help you."

"And if you go to Boston, what will you have?" the blonde's voice was quiet. Faith shrugged uncomfortably.

"I'll have me. That's enough." Even to her, it sounded false.

"Faith, I _want_ you to stay." Buffy lightly gripped the brunette's hand in her own, "After all we've been through … you're like a sister to me." She paused, "Except that I don't have to worry about you borrowing my clothes."

Faith snorted,

"That's for sure."

"Please stay." The blonde repeated. Faith sighed,

"I wish I could, B. But I made a promise. I won't go back on it, no matter how much I want to."

Buffy let go of her hand.

"So that's it, then?"

"Yeah." Faith nodded, her voice rough. She stood, wiped her hair back with her hand. "Look at it this way, B. The old Faith would have blown off the promise and stayed. But would you have wanted her to?"

"Oh for goodness sake, Cor." Harmony scowled, "I'm not going to bite you."

"That's right." The brunette nodded, "You aren't. Because I've got this cross." She brandished it aggressively, making the vampire take a half step back.

"Look, I'd have to be pretty stupid to pick a fight with you. Because when Spike works out that I took this thing, he's going to be really pissed. So I'm gonna need your friends' protection. Now, do you want the damn Gem or not?"

"Give it to David." Cordelia jerked her head at the man standing diffidently to her left.

"You're the rich guy, huh?" Harmony smiled flirtatiously, offering him the bundled blanket she was holding. "You sure you can make this thing disappear again?"

"Um. Yes." He nodded nervously.

"Of course we can." Cordelia snapped, "that's why you came to us, isn't it?"

"Why did you?" David asked suddenly, "Um … come to us?"

Harmony sniffed,

"That bastard Spike was just using it to get back with Drusilla."

"Oh great." Cordelia rolled her eyes, "Spike's plan for world domination is foiled because you're a jealous little cow."

Harmony snarled at the brunette, the ridges of her vampire face forming instinctively. Cordelia thrust the cross forward immediately,

"Just give me an excuse, Harm." The brunette smiled sweetly.

"You don't have your ghost friend to protect you this time." The blonde growled back.

"You're beautiful."

"_What?_" Cordelia and Harmony exclaimed in unison, whirling to face David. The multimillionaire blushed in surprise, but repeated his words.

"You're beautiful." He reached out tentatively and stroked one of the hard ridges on Harmony's face. The gesture shocked her so much that she dropped back into her human face. He was sort of cute, in a geeky kind of way. _And he has all that money_.

"Oh, good grief." Cordelia pressed her free hand to her temple, "didn't your thing for demons get you in enough trouble already, David?"

She got the distinct feeling she may as well be talking to herself.

Spike leaned against the car, fumbling one-handed with his cigarettes. The arm Tor'Kol had broken was now bound in a sling. It would heal in a week or so. In the meantime, he was getting grouchy due to a lack of smokes.

"That's a filthy habit, you know." Darla stepped out of the gas station, daintily wiping her mouth. She was carrying a white plastic bag in one hand.

"How much did we get?" Spike ignored her comment.

"Only eighty from the till." She patted her coat pocket, "Maybe a thousand from the safe. And four cartons for you. Assorted flavours." She rustled the bag.

"Thanks, princess." He grinned. "How 'bout we knock over the next station, too? I could do with a little something to wet my whistle."

"You could have had some of this one."

"Nah." He shook his head, "I don't like left-overs."

Darla laughed,

"Did you fill up?"

"Yeah. And I waited until I'd finished to light the smoke, too. I'm not a complete fool."

"Except about Drusilla." Darla smiled sweetly.

His eyes narrowed.

"Well, you put a stop to that didn't you, pet?"

"Oh, poor William." Darla teased, plucking the cigarette out of his mouth to kiss him, "One of you was going to die, either way. Would you have preferred it to be you?"

"Guess not." He breathed, and kissed her again, savouring the taste of fresh blood in her mouth.

After the better part of a minute they parted lips.

"Time to go." She whispered.

"Yeah." Spike took back his cigarette and slid into the passenger seat. He watched Darla walk around to the driver's side, admiring the smooth movement of her body. He wondered if he would kill her once he was back up to full strength. _She did kill Dru, after all_.

On the other hand, she was great in the sack. And a lot less emotional than Drusilla had been. And she had saved him from being killed. He'd give it a couple of weeks to make up his mind.

"What're you thinking about?" she asked, climbing into the car.

"Just that this is another one I owe those bitch slayers." He pointed back over his shoulder. By now, Sunnydale was a good fifty miles behind them.

"You thinking about going back, one day?"

"Go back to Sunnydale?" he laughed, "Every time I'm there I get my ass kicked by the slayers and go within an inch of being dusted." He paused and laughed again, "You _bet_ I'm gonna go back. But for now, let's go shake up Vegas. I feel like making a killing at the casinos."

Faith packed her belongings for the second time in a week. The single bag looked small and alone on the bed, but she tried to think of that as a positive. _At least I travel light_.

"Faith?" it was the last voice she had expected to hear.

"Anya." The brunette slayer turned to look at the ex-demoness, who stood at the open door of her dorm room.

"Can I come in?"

"So long as you're not a vampire, yeah."

Anya came into the room almost gingerly, glancing around as she did so.

"Buffy's a slob, huh?"

"She's not too bad." Faith shrugged. It was hard not to be messy when you owned as much stuff as Buffy seemed to. "What do you want, Anya?"

"I came to see if you'd left yet."

"I was just going." Faith said shortly, shouldering her bag. _What else did I expect from her? A tearful farewell?_

"Wait!" Anya put out her hand. The slayer stopped with a scowl. She had picked this time to leave because Buffy was in a class. If the ex-demoness delayed her too long, she would have to endure another tearful scene with the other slayer.

"What is it?" she didn't bother to keep the edge of hostility from her voice.

"I didn't mean it like that." Anya waved her hands in a gesture of confusion, "I just … say stuff … the first thing that comes into my head, y'know?"

"So what _did_ you mean?" Faith sighed, dropping the bag; and herself; back onto the bed.

"I meant that I'd come to make sure you hadn't gone yet." Anya shifted uncomfortably, "I just wanted to tell you that Xander and I have split up. So if you want to have sex with him, you can."

Faith blinked. She had to give Anya credit: the girl was direct.

"How did that happen?"

"I spoke to Buffy's mom a couple of nights ago." Anya shrugged, "And she said I should experiment with other men before I settle down with one."

Faith coughed in surprise. She doubted Joyce Summers had said anything quite so bald. But Anya tended to boil things down to the bare bones.

"So you're cool with me staying in town?"

"Yes." Anya nodded, "In fast, whether you stay or not, _I'm_ leaving. Buffy said that Angel could fix me up with a job. And there are more men in LA than here."

_Buffy said, huh?_ Faith shook her head, mentally. The blonde slayer liked to get her own way.

"Anyway, that's all I had to say." Anya turned toward the door.

"Anya?"

"Yeah?"

"You should get to a know a guy before you 'experiment' with him." Faith suggested, "Take it from someone who knows."

"Okay." Anya shrugged, then left.

Faith shook her head and lay back on the bed. _Look out, LA_.

**Epilogue**

"So how are things in LA?" Faith asked as Buffy hung up the phone. The brunette was sitting cross-legged on her bed, a pile of books in front of her.

"Good. Anya's moved into Cordy's place -"

"Geez. Lock up on your menfolk."

Buffy laughed,

"Angel says they _do_ go to a lot of parties. Harmony's still around. She got her hooks into some guy called David."

Faith frowned,

"A vamp and a human. That's just freaky." Faith realised what she had said and blushed, "I mean … where the vampire doesn't have a soul. Angel is totally different." It was time to clamp down on the babbling before she started to sound like Willow. "How is he, anyway?"

"He still wants me to date other guys." The blonde flipped her hair back, "He keeps telling me that it could be hundreds of years before he becomes human, and that I shouldn't waste my life waiting."

Faith nodded,

"That sounds like Angel. Are you going to date?"

Buffy frowned thoughtfully,

"Not for a while." She said at last, "Angel's right, I guess. I can't wait for him. But I've spent most of the last three years in relationships. It might be nice to be single for a while. I can concentrate on meddling in my friends' affairs, then." Her voice took on a teasing note, "Speaking of which, how is _Xander_?"

"Xand's cool." Faith replied mildly, "We're friends."

"Oh?" Buffy raised her eyebrows, "So you're not a couple, then?"

The brunette shrugged,

"I help him train, he makes me laugh. We're friends." She waited a heartbeat before adding, deadpan, "And the sex is pretty damn good, too."

"I knew it!" Buffy squealed excitedly, clambering onto her own bed and grabbing a pillow. "C'mon, spill!"

Faith grinned,

"Why should I tell you about that stuff?"

"It's traditional! Girls always tell this stuff to their best friends." Buffy pouted, "I _am _your best friend, aren't I?"

Faith smiled, feeling suddenly bashful.

"Well, okay. But you're just getting the PG-13 version …"


	9. Chapter 8 slash

**Watching Your Back (Part 8 - Slayer Pride version)**

**Previously ...**

Faith has returned to Sunnydale, intent on reconciliation with Buffy and her friends. Initially suspicious of the brunette slayer, the gang has slowly accepted her again. Faith's return could not have come at a better time: Buffy has begun to act erratically whilst Spike has been plotting to cause a flood of demons to come to Sunnydale.

During the desperate attempt to thwart Spike's plan, Buffy's erratic behaviour came to a culmination: as a consequence, Spike's plan succeeded and Riley Finn was killed. The cause of Buffy's strange actions was also revealed: she has been possessed by the first Slayer.

In a desperate battle where the gang called in every ally they could find, Buffy was restored and Spike's demon cohorts were dealt a serious defeat. However, the British vampire's own plans are far from finished, and he has now abducted Willow …

**Chapter Twenty Two**

Buffy toweled her hair vigorously, then stared critically into the mirror. Even after thirty minutes in the shower and three doses of shampoo, she looked like she'd been sleeping in a cave for a week. Which she had, but that didn't make her like the look any better. Pulling a mournful face, she wished for another hour in the shower. But the others would be worrying about her by now. Plus, the hot water had run out.

Ducking quickly through the hallway to her room, the blonde slayer pulled on a pair of faded jeans and an oversized T-shirt. She was tempted to take her time and dress to kill, but at four in the morning it hardly seemed worth the effort. _Still, a little something extra wouldn't hurt_.

Checking her jewellery, Buffy's eye fell on a simple gold bracelet. She sighed and picked it up slowly. Riley had given it to her on their six month anniversary. She missed him, in a quiet, gentle kind of way. There was pain, but it wasn't the raw ache she had felt when Angel died. She wondered why that was. She hadn't loved Riley any less.

There was a soft knock at the door,

"You okay in there, B?"

The blonde slayer smiled slightly and gently laid the bracelet back on her dresser. Sometimes questions answered themselves. When Angel died, she had felt utterly alone. After what he friends had done for her tonight, she doubted she could never feel that way again.

Buffy half-turned to the door, then stopped. Slowly, she took down the plain silver cross and fastened it around her neck.

"Yeah, Faith. I'm coming."

Anya sat beside Xander's bed, lightly holding his hand. The young man was lying face down in the hospital bed, his back covered with gauze bandages.

"Geez, looks like Will and Tara have run off on us." He joked feebly, "Just me and my gal, now."

Anya didn't answer, her expression distracted. Concerned, Xander squeezed her hand,

"What's the matter?"

"Do you want to have sex with Faith again?"

Xander's eyes widened. For a few moments, he was genuinely speechless.

"Huh?" evidently the speechlessness still mostly applied.

"_She_ wants to have sex with _you_." Anya continued, almost thoughtfully.

"Anya? What -"

"I can see why you would want sex with her. Faith is very attractive."

Xander squeaked inarticulately. _Don't think that. Don't think about them together. Oh damn_. He breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn't lying on his back.

"Anya. Why -"

"Faith told me about your kiss, Xander."

He felt his stomach lurch. _Faith told her?_ What was the slayer playing at?

"Look Anya, I don't know what Faith told you, but I stopped that kiss -"

"That's what she said." The ex-demoness nodded, "she said it was all her fault and that you stopped it straight away."

"Oh." He couldn't keep the confusion out of his voice.

"You stopped her because you were afraid of what I would do, didn't you?" there was a bleak note to Anya's voice that Xander had not heard before.

"No!" he protested, "Well … not _just_ because of that. I didn't want to hurt you, Anya."

"I think we should break up."

"Huh?" Xander's vocal skills went AWOL again. He struggled to form an actual sentence, but was distracted when the door burst open and Tara ran in, obviously distraught.

"Willow's gone!"

The phone rang just as Buffy and Faith were walking past it. The blonde's heart sank. Phone calls at four in the morning were never good news, particularly when you were the slayer. She picked up the phone on the second ring.

"Summers residence." She answered evenly, aware that the low noise of conversation in the next room had stopped as soon as she picked up the handset.

"It's me." The caller said, unhelpfully. After a moment, Buffy placed the voice.

"Hi, Anya." She glanced at Faith, surprising a guilty look in the brunette's eyes. _What's that about?_ "Is there a problem?"

"Yeah." The ex-demoness paused, "Willow's missing. Tara's hysterical. And Xander and I are breaking up."

"You broke up? Willow's missing?" the slayer refocused her mind on the most important piece of news. Talking to Anya could be a surreal experience.

"Yeah. Tara thinks that Spike must've grabbed her."

The blonde swore under her breath. _I should have known Spike was up to something when he didn't turn up at the warehouse._

"Do we know where his base is, yet?"

"No. We were too busy trying to save you." Anya sounded disapproving. "Hang on." Buffy winced as the other girl dropped her handset with a clatter.

"Buffy?" Tara's voice was hesitant and overwrought as she came on the line.

"Hi, Tara." Buffy did her best to sound confident as well as concerned.

"I can find Willow." The blonde witch mumbled, "but we've got to go now. Spike could kill Willow. Or…"

"I know." The slayer said gently, "I'm not sure who's still here, but we'll come by the hospital and get you straight away. Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to Willow."

"Mornin', ducks." Spike patted Willow gently on the cheek as she slowly recovered consciousness. "time for all good little witches to help out their old mate, Spike."

The redhead looked around slowly, obviously scared but keeping it in check. She was sitting on a large bed in an underground room. Her hands were bound behind her back, whilst her feet were hobbled together with a length of rope perhaps six inches long.

"Buffy is _so_ gonna kick your ass." She said suddenly, almost smiling at the prospect.

"She has to find me first, pet." The vampire reminded her, winding his hand in her hair and pulling her head to one side, "Now, I just need a little spell out of you. Cooperate, and you might get to live. Give me any more lip, and I'll just turn you. I could use a witch on my team."

Willow paled,

"W-what spell? I'll need you to get ingredients!"

Spike shook his head,

"Not this time, pet. I have everything you need. I just need someone with the skill to use them." he tapped her nose with his finger, "and you fit the bill quite nicely there."

The redhead glanced nervously between Spike and the gently smiling Darla, then sighed.

"What's the spell?"

"It's called the Harvest."

"The Harvest?" Willow looked appalled, then frowned, "I thought that needed to be on a special night … one that only came once a century."

"That's the thing about mystical conjunctions," Spike smiled nastily, "you go a hundred years without one, then get three all at once. It's like the buses."

Willow looked confused. Spike sighed. _Californians_.

"I'm kidding, pet." He smirked, "there's more than one ritual known as the Harvest."

"Do people still die?" the redhead asked suspiciously. Spike shrugged,

"Just one."

"Then I won't do it." Willow swallowed, scared but resolute.

"Listen here, ducks." Spike gripped her by the throat, tightening his grip just enough to make breathing difficult, without cutting it off completely. "I wouldn't need this ritual if you and your slayerette army hadn't interfered tonight. Killing the slayers would have been enough to win Dru back. But since you stopped that, I'll just have to go with my back-up plan."

"Uh stull wunt do ut." The redhead choked the words out in spite of Spike's grip on her throat.

The British vampire swore and raised his fist.

"William." Darla interrupted gently, laying a hand on his arm. "A word?"

The two vampires moved out of Willow's earshot, but remained between her and the only exit.

"Why don't you just turn her?" the blonde asked Spike, her fingers still resting on his arm. "She'll cast the spell willingly enough, then."

He shook his head slightly,

"Can't. I want her to cast Varizhin's Harvest."

Darla's eyebrow quirked,

"I thought the knowledge of that ritual had been lost."

"So was the Gem of Fey'R." Spike reminded her, with a smug grin. "You like the plan?"

"William, it's _delicious_." Darla breathed, and kissed him firmly on the lips, "her blood is sweet already, but filled with the power of the Harvest -"

"Manna from Hell." Spike agreed, "The only problem is convincing the little witch to do it. This isn't a love spell I'm asking her to cast: it's black as they come. She'll see that straight away."

"It is a problem." Darla mused, glancing at Willow, who glared back. "Even if you could convince her to do it, she might make a mistake. Or deliberately sabotage the ritual."

Spike nodded,

"I just want Dru back." He complained, "even arranging the death of _one_ slayer would have been enough for that. But no, they _both_ had to live. After the disaster tonight, I need something special to win her back."

Dimly, they heard a furious voice bellow Spike's name. Tor'Kol of the Jeneth was back from the night's battle, and he sounded far from pleased.

"Go see to your demon friends." Darla licked her upper lip gently, " Leave the witch to me. What she needs is a woman's touch."

"Trouble?" Angel asked as soon as Buffy and Faith came into the living room. The blonde slayer nodded,

"Spike's taken Willow. Tara thinks she can use a spell to find her, but we need to get up to the hospital straight away." She glanced around the room, "That is, if you are all willing to help."

"I'm in." Faith folded her arms confidently, "What about you, Katie?"

Detective Lockley shot an exasperated look at the brunette slayer,

"You take a lot for granted, Faith." She grumbled. "I've already risked my neck for your friends once tonight. What makes you think I want to do it again?"

"Why'd you become a cop?" Faith grinned insolently at the Detective's filthy look.

Kate sighed,

"All right, I'm in."

"We shall of course, assist." Wesley volunteered, while Gunn merely nodded silently.

"Amy?" Buffy asked, turning to the last person in the room. Giles had already left to take Jonathon home. Privately, she was glad. This was likely to get rough. "I don't want you to get in the thick of things again." _Faith and I will have words about the risks she let people take_. "But you might be able to help Tara with her spell?"

The blonde sighed, lifting her hand to chest height. It was trembling visibly.

"I'm scared out of my mind." She admitted, "But Willow's my friend. I'll try to help Tara."

"What can I do?" a new voice spoke from behind the slayers.

Buffy turned. Joyce Summers stood at the entrance to the living room, wearing her dressing gown.

"Mom." The blonde said weakly. "I thought you were asleep."

"The phone woke me." Joyce replied, "Now, there must be something I can do."

Buffy opened her mouth, trying to think of some way to dissuade her mother. But before she could say anything, Faith spoke up.

"Actually, Mrs S., would you be willing to go to the hospital? Xander's hurt, and it would be good if someone could be there with him." The brunette flicked a sideways glance at Buffy, "Since Anya will probably come with us, yeah?"

"Maybe." The blonde slayer smelled gossip. _Big gossip_. But she had more important things on her mind, and this seemed a safe option for occupying her mother. "That would be a big help, Mom."

Joyce looked unconvinced, but nodded after a short hesitation.

"Okay." Buffy nodded in satisfaction. "Mom, you've got two minutes to get dressed. We need to get out to the hospital as soon as we can."

"Your vampires were useless." Tor'Kol rumbled belligerently at Spike. "And _you_ did not even fight. This betrayal invalidates our agreement. I should kill you where you stand."

"No need to be hasty, mate." Spike said soothingly, "I promised you the Gem whatever happened, didn't I?"

"True." The Jeneth rumbled, "But after your duplicity tonight, I did not expect you to keep that promise, either."

"The slayers surprised me with their reinforcements." Spike admitted, "and once it was obvious that they were well-prepared for our ambush, I felt it wisest to cut my losses. I regret the casualties your people suffered as a consequence."

"A pretty lie." Tor'Kol said disdainfully, "you care nothing for the deaths of my followers."

Spike shrugged an admission of his insincerity.

"At least your consort was not in any danger." He remarked, "It would have been unfortunate if she had been hurt before you could take her to the demonic planes."

Tor'Kol's lip curled,

"Drusilla was once your consort, was she not?"

"Ancient history, mate." Spike shrugged, "She's with you, now."

"I am not the fool you think I am, Spike." The Jeneth sneered, "You know as well as I that Drusilla cannot journey to the demonic planes. They are habitable only by true demons and our victims. You hope to make her your consort once more. Perhaps, if you had not run from battle tonight, she would have accepted you." The demon's tone made it clear he did not think it likely, "But she will have nothing to do with one so lacking in courage as you have proved to be."

Spike's eyes narrowed, but he restrained his anger. His followers had suffered just as much as the Jeneth in the recent battle, and were unlikely to feel any great loyalty toward him in the aftermath of the defeat. _Besides, after the little witch does the ritual, I'll be so strong that Dru will have no choice but to love me_.

Aloud, he said merely,

"I'm more resourceful than you might think, Tor'Kol. After all, _I_ found the Gem, not you." He lit a cigarette calmly, "Speaking o' which, why don't I take you to go get it?"

"Hi, Tara." Joyce greeted the blonde girl as she got out of the car. Behind her, Buffy climbed excitedly into the driver's seat.

"Hi, Mrs Summers." Tara answered in a subdued voice, then hurried around to get into the front passenger seat, which Buffy had just vacated. Joyce turned to watch her, feeling sympathy for the blonde. _She's obviously frantic about Willow_.

"Isn't Anya coming?" Buffy asked Tara as she over-revved the engine.

The blonde shook her head,

"She and Xander were too busy arguing."

"Drive carefully, dear." Joyce interrupted nervously. Buffy was by now actually a fairly competent driver, but she did have a tendency to get a little enthusiastic.

"Love you, Mom!" the slayer called back cheerily, roaring away from the curb. Her mother caught a brief glimpse of several pale faces in the back seat before the car was out of sight.

Suppressing the concern she always felt whenever Buffy went out to do her slaying, Joyce headed quickly inside. After four years in Sunnydale she could navigate around the hospital almost without thinking. Just another of the skills intrinsic to being a 'slayer mom'.

As she approached the room she could hear raised voices inside. Evidently Anya and Xander's argument was still continuing. Deciding that it would be wise to give them some warning, Joyce knocked and waited for a count of five before entering the room.

By then, Anya was perched sullenly on a chair as far away from the bed as she could get, whilst Xander was scowling into his pillow.

"Hi, Mrs Summers." The boy mumbled. A moment later, Anya echoed his greeting.

"Hello, both of you." Joyce paused, wondering if she should ask any questions. Neither of the two young people seemed to have a good relationship with their parents, but it might be better not to pry. Then again, sitting here in silence wouldn't be very comfortable either. "Are you two having problems?"

For a moment, they were both silent, and Joyce regretted asking the question. _It'll be something about vampires, or slime demons, or a magical plague_.

"Xander kissed another girl." Anya announced in sulky tones.

"I did n-" the boy began instinctively, then broke off, "Okay. I did. But it was just the once. And I put a stop to it straight away."

Joyce's eyes gleamed. Most things in her daughter's life confused her. Even Buffy's romances were a minefield of vampires and monster-hunting commandos. But this was classic Mom territory.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, hopefully.

"Now, my sweet." Darla sat behind Willow and gently caressed the witch's arms, causing the redhead to flinch slightly. "Spike tends to get a little angry sometimes. And when he's like that he doesn't explain himself very well."

"And you think you can do a better job?" Willow asked nervously.

"Let's just say that I couldn't do worse." Darla answered, a throaty chuckle underlying the words. She saw a little of the tenseness ease in the back of the girl's neck and moved her hands higher, rubbing gently over the knotted muscles. It was always best to be pleasant at first. _It makes the later stages more exciting_.

"Now." She said calmly, her fingers still massaging, "All William wants is to get his Drusilla back. For that, he just wants you to perform a simple little ritual."

"Someone will die!" Willow objected, some of the tenseness returning to her back. "And would you stop doing that?" she shifted her shoulders.

"Why? Doesn't it feel better?"

"Well, yeah." The redhead admitted, "But it's also really creepy."

The blonde vampire laughed softly and stopped the massage.

"Well, we can't have that." She paused, then continued. "It's just one person, you know. And then Spike will be out of your life forever. If you say no, he'll turn you instead. And then you'll end up doing the ritual anyway." Darla told the lie smoothly, with no hesitation to give her away. "William would just prefer not to have to wait for you to rise."

"Why?" Willow asked curiously, "He's waited months to get her back already."

"Yes, but the lady in question might leave town at any time." Darla murmured into the redhead's ear.

"She's here?" the witch squeaked, horrified.

"Oh yes." Darla smiled, "the mad little slut's here, all right."

"I take it you don't like her." the redhead's tone was dry.

"You're coping very well with your abduction." Darla changed the subject.

"I've had practice." Willow answered shortly.

"Yes. Being the slayer's best friend must be a dangerous business." Darla agreed. "So now you know why William is in a hurry. But think of all the people who will be hurt if he has to turn you, instead. Your sweet little girlfriend, for starters. Probably your parents, too. For some reason the children of my line tend to have issues with their human forebears."

"So what you're saying is that if I kill one person, Tara gets to live." Willow said quietly.

"Exactly." Darla nodded slowly, "Surely she's worth more than a single stranger?"

"Not to the stranger's family."

The blonde vampire sighed softly.

"Am I to take it that your answer is 'no'?"

"I won't do it."

"Good." Darla smiled, burying her teeth into the witch's neck.

Willow cried out, arching her back, but Darla gripped her arms tightly, holding her in place. The blood was sweet and strong. Not as potent as that of a slayer, but rich with magic and power.

And then there was a burst of shouts from outside the room, followed by the sound of running feet and fighting. Darla moaned in frustration, drawing her bloodied mouth away from the girl's neck.

"Why is it always in the middle of dinner?" The blonde complained plaintively, then slid off the bed and stood, letting her face revert to its human appearance.

"Don't go anywhere." She smiled sweetly at Willow, then backhanded the redhead roughly, knocking the girl unconscious. Her expression calm, Darla went to see what had gone wrong.

"There ya go, mate." Spike gestured at the dark wooden box which sat in the secluded underground chamber. "Your precious gem. As promised."

Tor'Kol stalked forward and reached out for the chest. His hand inches away from the lid, he suddenly paused.

"Lor'Dok." The Jeneth leader addressed the only bodyguard he had brought with him. "If this is a trap, ensure that our host survives a long time before his torture ends."

The Jeneth named Lor'Dok nodded silently, moving to stand just behind Spike.

"That's not very trustin' of you, Tor'Kol." The British vampire shook his head, "I'm ashamed to think that your opinion of me is so low."

"You have only your own actions to blame for _that_." Tor'Kol replied calmly, putting his hand on the lid of the chest and opening it.

For a few seconds, the Jeneth stood utterly still. Then slowly he turned, and the look in his eyes spoke of pain and death.

"Is this some kind of joke, vampire?" each word was thick with venom and fury.

"What are you talkin' about, mate?" Spike asked, surprised and a little nervous, "It's the Gem of Fey'R, as promised."

"_This box is empty!_" the Jeneth roared, hurling the chest against the wall with a sweep of his arm. The box shattered on the stone, fragments of wood exploding in all directions.

Spike's mouth worked silently, in shock and horror. Lor'Dok's strong hands grabbed him from behind, preventing any chance of escape.

"_Where_ is the Gem?" Tor'Kol demanded, towering over the vampire. "Our seers confirmed that it was in your possession, vampire. What have you done with it?"

"Mate, I swear I thought it was in there!" Spike couldn't take his eyes off the debris that had once been the chest. _Where the hell is it?_

Tor'Kol reached out and grabbed the vampire's forearm. Taking a long look into Spike's eyes, he wrenched sharply, snapping bone and cartilage.

Spike howled, his knees sagging. Only Lor'Kol's iron grip on him prevented the vampire from falling to the floor.

Tor'Kol leaned forward, his massive face coming within inches of Spike's own.

"That answer is not acceptable, vampire." His voice was a low rumble of menace. "I suggest you think of a better one."

**Chapter Twenty Three**

Amy watched with a mixture of fascination and nervousness as the girl named Tara put the finishing touches to their locating spell. Before spending two years as a rat, she had considered herself a pretty powerful witch. But the other girl was something else entirely: she used techniques Amy had never seen before, and worked with a speed that was dizzying.

And she was Willow's girlfriend. That was a weird thing to deal with. _Willow and I used to share a bed when we slept-over!_ Okay, they had only been ten at the time. And it wasn't like she had anything against Willow's choice. Plus, Tara seemed very nice. It was just really unnerving to spend two years 'away' and come back to find something like that had changed.

_Focus_. She scolded herself mentally. What Willow did was absolutely none of her business. And it was obvious that the two girls shared a connection.

She frowned, her mind replaying the incantations Tara had used.

"You and Willow are joined, aren't you?" she whispered.

Tara nodded slowly, blushing,

"It's why I can find Willow, though we could never locate Spike's base." She explained shyly, keeping her voice too low for the others to hear. "The link between us lets me get through the barrier spells he has up to hide himself."

Amy rocked back on her heels, glancing over at the others. There had not been enough room to perform the ritual inside the car, and so the two witches were crouched by the side of the road, having just completed the locating spell.

She didn't know much about spells which affected the casters' own souls, but she knew they were very dangerous. Tara and Willow must have cared very deeply for one another to have risked performing such a ritual. _If I had someone who loved me that much, I wouldn't care what sex they were either_.

She leaned over and laid her hand on the other girl's arm.

"Don't worry. We'll get her back."

Giles swore mildly when he saw the blinking light on his answering machine. A message this late at night could only mean trouble of some sort. He hurried over and pressed 'play', already shrugging back into his coat as he did so.

"Hey, G-man." Faith's voice bellowed. There was a lot of background noise for her to shout over. It sounded to Giles like she was in a car, talking on a cell phone, "Spike's got Red. We just swung by the hospital to pick up Tara. She says she can find Willow. Mrs S. is staying there with Xander. He's in room 324. B wants you to go check on them as soon as you get this message. Y'know, you bein' the man of the house, 'n all."

There was a squawk of outrage in the background, prompting a smoky laugh from Faith, before the message came to an abrupt halt.

Giles hurried out of the apartment, taking time only to carefully lock the door behind him. He drove to the hospital without thinking about it: the route was so familiar it was almost automatic. Instead, his mind kept turning back to Faith's message. They had only just managed to get Buffy back, and already the next crisis had appeared. His hands tightened on the steering wheel, then relaxed slowly. During his training, it had always been emphasised that there should be no personal relationship between the Slayer and her Watcher. At the time, it had seemed to make sense, as had the requirement for the Slayer to operate in secret. His failure to abide by those rules had ultimately cost him his position as Buffy's Watcher. For a long time afterward, he had questioned his role and value in Sunnydale. He had even come close to returning to England on a couple of occasions.

As he drove through the streets, the Englishman felt an strange sense of calm. Naturally, he was deeply concerned for Willow's safety. But Buffy, Faith and the others were already going to the redhead's aid. If she could be saved, they would be do it. Because they were working together. That was their strength.

Now, as Giles thought about the times that things had seemed bleakest; Buffy's disappearance, Faith's alliance with the Mayor, the last days before they defeated Adam; he realised that each had been brought on by a sense of isolation and dissent within the group. Buffy had fled Sunnydale because she felt alone. Faith had turned to the Mayor for much the same reason. And Spike had turned them all against one another at Adam's behest. During those times, they had been at their weakest.

These young people took on so much responsibility that he often forgot just how young they were. If he did nothing else in Sunnydale than remind them that they could always rely on his friendship and support, he would be doing more than could be measured.

Whistling tunelessly, Giles parked at the hospital and hurried inside. It was well outside visiting hours, but the hospital staff had given up trying to enforce that rule with their group. It was another part of the town's tacit acknowledgment that things in Sunnydale were far from 'normal'.

As Giles arrived at the doorway of room 324, he paused. All three occupants were silent. Xander was staring moodily at the wall, whilst Anya looked like she had been crying. Only Joyce seemed relatively relaxed as she came over to give him a welcoming hug.

"Is everything all right?" he asked softly, kissing her cheek.

"I think so." Joyce answered, her eyes creasing briefly in concern. "They've just had a little fight. They've got some things sorted out, now."

"Quite." Giles nodded, feeling a deep sense of relief that he hadn't arrived any earlier. Offering his support and friendship was all very well, but meddling in romantic liaisons was best left to a professional, in his opinion.

Tor'Kol hit Spike again. He was swinging his fists easily, not unleashing the full power of his arms, but each blow still sent a shudder through the vampire's entire body.

"You expect me to believe that the Gem has disappeared from the depths of your own stronghold?" he growled at his semi-conscious victim. "Without your knowledge? How could this be?"

"I … don't … bloody … know." Spike gasped slowly, his eyes not quite focused. "Maybe … that eerie bastard … Hansard. Maybe he took it."

"Hansard?' Tor'Kol frowned. It was not a name he had heard before.

"Spy." Spike muttered, slumped in Lor'Dok's grip. "C'n make himself … invisible."

"Did he know about this chamber?"

Spike laughed harshly, then winced.

"Christ knows. Wasn't … supposed to … but _was_ a spy."

Tor'Kol scowled. Now that his anger had cleared, he was beginning to believe that the vampire genuinely did not know what had happened to the gem. Had Spike planned treachery, he would never have come alone to this room with two Jeneth.

"Very well." He rumbled slowly. "I accept that you have acted in good faith in this matter."

As Spike smiled in relief, Tor'Kol nodded to Lor'Dok.

"Kill him."

Incompetence could no more be tolerated than betrayal.

The two vampires on guard died without ever realising that an attack had started.

Tara had been as good as her word: not only had her and Amy's locating spell led their group straight to Spike's lair, but she had also protected the slayers from detection until they got close enough to surprise the guards.

Now, as wards concealing them fell away, Buffy and Faith plunged into the lair, the others close behind them. Four vampires and one Jeneth died within seconds, taken completely by surprise. Others fled, spreading the alarm.

As soon as the room was secure, the attackers split into three groups. Screaming like a Banshee, Faith led Buffy deeper into the lair. The two slayers had a mission to be as loud and visible as they could be, shouting abuse and taunts at the vampires and demons they encountered. It was up to them to distract as much attention as they could away from the others.

As soon as the slayers had gone, Tara and Amy cloaked themselves and Wesley in protective wards. Sweat appeared on their faces within minutes, showing the strain the spell was placing on them. But while the spell was in effect, they would be overlooked by those who did not know they were there to look for them.

"How long can you hold it?" Wesley asked Tara in concern. He had been designated to 'protect' the two witches, but they all knew that if they were discovered the best he could do was buy them some time to run.

"As long as we need." Tara grimaced, "Willow is this way." She pointed, and the three set off. It was their job to find the redheaded witch and get her safely back to the entrance of the lair.

Left in the first chamber, Angel, Gunn and Kate prepared calmly for the fight to come. The demons would send guards to seal the entrance, trying to trap the attackers within the lair. It was up to them to keep the group's escape route open.

Spike's head jerked up at Tor'Kol's words. The sudden movement caused his vision to blur.

"Now wait a minute, mate …"

Keeping his grip on Spike's left shoulder as strong as ever, Lor'Dok released the right and reached for a stake. As he did so, the war cries of two battle-ready slayers echoed through the lair. For a moment, the sudden noise caused the Jeneth's grip to relax slightly.

Spike threw himself forward, jerking out of Lor'Dok's hands. He felt weak and dizzy, dangerously close to passing out, but years of instinctive survival stood him in good stead. The British vampire ducked under Tor'Kol's reaching arms and ran out of the room.

Lor'Dok moved to follow, but Tor'Kol shook his head.

"There will be time enough for Spike." He said slowly, "Go to protect Drusilla. I will find the slayers. It is time to take revenge for those we lost at the warehouse."

Tara stumbled and sagged against the wall, panting for breath.

"Are you all right?" Wesley asked, glancing around nervously.

The blonde shook her head,

"Too many spells." She whispered, her eyes closed. She was very pale and covered in sweat. Wesley pressed a hand to her face, feeling how cold her skin was. "I can't …"

"I can." Amy said quietly, wiping a sheen of perspiration from her face. "Draw on me."

"No." Tara whispered, "You're just as tired."

"No, I'm not." Amy's voice was firm. She was proud of that. In truth, she was bone weary, her reserves all but exhausted. But Tara had borne far more of the burden than her. _I have to take some of the load off her, now_.

For a moment, Tara looked like she would refuse. Then she nodded tiredly, releasing the wards she had bound around them.

Amy staggered as it fell to her to support all the wards alone. It felt like an enormous rock had been lashed to her back, secured with straps which were too tight to let her breathe. But she held it. _Maybe I could have been a powerful witch, after all_.

Tara pushed herself off the wall, pointed down a tunnel.

"This way." She said quietly.

Buffy and Faith burst into a new chamber, then skidded sharply to a halt.

The vampire they had been chasing now dangled in the right hand of the largest Jeneth they had seen: a huge, broad-shouldered monster a good seven feet tall.

"Nice outfit." The blonde slipped her hair back, eyeing the demon's tailored suit.

"Thank you." The Jeneth rumbled, hurling his captive into the wall. The vampire crumpled to the ground, knocked unconscious by the impact. "My name is Tor'Kol. I am Clan Chief."

"Thanks for sharing." Faith nodded, "we'll make sure it goes on your headstone."

The Jeneth laughed, the sound a deep bass rumble.

"Such confidence. Which of you will fight me first?"

For a moment the two slayers looked at one another, then Faith smirked.

"What's this 'first' crap?"

They leapt forward together.

Tor'Kol swept out his arms, slapping aside their blows. He was strong and fast, and his size gave him a huge advantage of reach. Both slayers dropped back quickly, getting out of range of those big, powerful hands. The two stood together, not more than a yard apart.

"He's good." Faith muttered.

"Yeah." Buffy agreed. "Big, too."

"They all look big to you, B."

"That better not be a height gag, you floozy."

"I had expected more honour from the slayers.." Tor'Kol rumbled, "and less foolish chatter."

"Honour?" Faith snorted, "Even with my sidekick here, you outweigh us by a hundred pounds."

Tor'Kol charged.

The slayers leapt apart, ducking under the wide sweep of his arms. One of them even landed a glancing blow on his shoulder, but it had no effect on his thick, leathery skin.

"The hell with this." Buffy muttered, dashing forward as Tor'Kol turned.

"B!" Faith cried out in surprise. The Jeneth's mouth broadened into a wide smile as he swept his arms wide, grabbing at the slightly built Slayer.

Buffy ducked.

Tor'Kol's hands clutched at air as the blonde slid between his legs and leapt to her feet, smashing a spinning kick into the demon's back.

He stumbled a half step, roared and started to turn.

Faith leapt forward, wrapping herself around one of Tor'Kol's arms, keeping the demon sufficiently distracted that Buffy was able to dodge his blow.

Snarling, the Jeneth grabbed Faith's jacket with his free hand, hauling her off him and dangling her in the air.

"Now." He rumbled, shaking her roughly. The brunette's teeth rattled. "I have you -"

Faith twisted, stabbing her knife into the arm that was holding her. Tor'Kol bellowed, but held his grip. The brunette stabbed again, and the Jeneth reached for her with his free hand.

Buffy hammered her foot into the demon's knee, following up with two more quick kicks to his side. The sudden barrage of blows distracted him for a moment, and Faith wormed out of her jacket with a speed born of practice.

Landing lightly on the floor, the brunette smashed a roundhouse kick into the demon's face, then followed up by slamming her knife deep into his stomach. Tor'Kol grunted and back-handed her. Faith was knocked back a dozen feet, but rolled and came to her feet with smooth grace. A dark bruise began to form on her face.

Buffy struck at the Jeneth again, her feet and fists connecting with his back and side. Ducking left of Tor'Kol's reaching hand, she aimed a kick at it, her boot smashing bones in two of his fingers.

The brunette struck from the other side, keeping up the barrage of blows.

Tor'Kol fought back, his huge fists sweeping through the air. Several times, one or the other slayer was knocked from her feet by a glancing hit. But try as he might, the demon could never land a solid blow. And the constant impacts of the Slayers' blows, together with the injuries he had sustained, slowly began to take the edge off his speed.

The two girls landed blows more and more readily, but the demon kept fighting, some of his blows coming dangerously close to ending their lives. All it would take was one lucky hit.

"Any ideas?" Faith panted, as they fell back after another flurry of blows. The fight had only lasted a few minutes, but they needed to finish it before any other demons or vampires turned up.

"Just one." Buffy nodded. "You go for his legs."

The brunette nodded and charged in, striking low and hard, concentrating all her blows on Tor'Kol's left leg. Buffy kept to the demon's front and right, doing enough to distract him from catching Faith.

And then a blow landed with enough force to drop the Jeneth momentarily to one knee. Instantly, the blonde slayer saw her opportunity. She stepped in and kicked up, her boot driving into the softer skin of Tor'Kol's throat. There was a soft, wet crunch as the bones of his neck gave way under the blow.

Slowly, the huge demon toppled to the floor.

"How'd you feel?" Faith asked.

"Let's get back to the entrance." Buffy winced. Even Tor'Kol's glancing blows were powerful: she was certain she had at least two cracked ribs. "And _you're_ the sidekick here, by the way."

"Me?" Faith looked set to argue, then grinned suddenly. "Okay. You can be the Green Hornet and I'll be Kato."

"Who?"

Kate fired her last four rounds into the snarling face of a Jeneth, thankful that the demons could be killed with bullets. In most other ways, they were far tougher than vampires.

Beside her, Gunn stood ready with a knife and a stake. He had lost his crossbow when the second group of vampires attacked.

Holstering the handgun, Kate suppressed a yelp of surprise when a cold hand clasped her shoulder.

"Sorry." Angel apologised. "You two okay?"

"Yeah, man." Gunn actually sounded as if he were enjoying himself, despite the bloody cut on his left arm. "Cop-lady here's been gettin' down with the hand artillery."

"Good." Angel replied calmly, "the others should be back soon. Their time is up."

The sound of running feet reached them suddenly.

Gripping her stake tightly, Kate hoped grimly that it was some of their group, rather than another wave of demons.

Moments later, the two witches burst into the chamber, closely followed by a heavily-laden Wesley, who had Willow draped across his shoulders in a firefighter's carry.

Angel took the unconscious girl from the purple-faced Englishman, who wheezed an expression of gratitude, then sank to his knees and sprawled on the floor, gasping for breath.

"How is she?" Kate asked Angel, her eyes not leaving the tunnel she was guarding.

"Alive." He answered shortly, then turned to Tara, "Was she like this when you found her?"

The blonde nodded,

"She had been left in a room. It was locked, but Wesley picked it."

"W's noth'n." The Englishman was still to out of breath to form complete words.

With a pounding off feet, Buffy and Faith rounded the nearest corner of the tunnel and charged into the room. Both were dishevelled and bruised, but appeared to have avoided serious injury.

"Is she okay?" Buffy's face had paled at the site of Willow.

"Yes." Angel nodded, "she's been bitten, but hasn't lost enough blood for it to be life-threatening."

"Then let's get gone." Faith suggested, "The fun's all over, here, anyway."

"Oh dear, Miss Edith." Drusilla whispered, "Daddy's asleep."

Lor'Dok stared down at the sprawled body of his former Clan Chief with a mixture of satisfaction and regret. Satisfaction that he would now be Clan Chief; regret that he would never have the honour of taking Tor'Kol's life himself.

"It's time to leave." He growled, taking Drusilla's arm.

"No." she said, shaking her arm free. "Daddy's still asleep. We mustn't wake him."

The Jeneth sighed. He had never understood what Tor'Kol saw in the vampiress. He reached out for her again, not sure if he would kill her or not.

He never got to make the choice.

Spike's blade sank deeply into the back of his neck, driving up into the demon's brain. Lor'Dok blinked slowly, a soft noise of surprise coming from his throat, then toppled to the ground, his shocked face staring at the ceiling.

The British vampire smirked, cradling his injured arm against his chest.

"Not so much fun when _I'm_ behind _you_, is it mate?" he muttered, then gave Drusilla his most charming smile. "It's time to go, love."

"Can't go." Drusilla cradled Miss Edith tenderly, "Daddy's still asleep."

Spike glanced at Tor'Kol and sighed. Walking over to the body, he kicked it twice.

"He's not asleep, pet. He's dead."

"Dead?" the dark-eyed brunette repeated slowly.

"That's right, pet. Dead as he can be." Spike demonstrated by delivering another pair of kicks to the Jeneth's body.

"You killed him." Drusilla whispered.

"What?" Spike smiled nervously, "No, pet. Not me. The Slayers killed him."

Drusilla crouched and put Miss Edith on Lor'Dok's chest. Gently, she arranged his arms so that he was cradling the doll.

"Dru?" Spike reached out carefully with his good hand.

She screamed and sprang at him, her nails raking like claws.

Spike fell back before the onslaught, vainly trying to protect himself with one arm. Drusilla's nails racked his arm and face. He swore and tripped, falling against the wall. Unhurt, he could have knocked her out and forced her to come with him. As badly injured as he was, there was little the British vampire could do to fight off the furious brunette.

"You killed him." She repeated mournfully, drawing a stake from inside the folds of her robe.

Spike raised his arm in a futile attempt at self-defence, knowing that he could not stop the blow from falling.

A pale arm snaked under Drusilla's upraised arm, then reached back to grab her by the hair. Darla's face appeared over the brunette's shoulder. As always, she seemed calm and composed.

Drusilla struggled, but the blonde was too strong, wrenching back on the brunette's hair.

"Now." Darla said thoughtfully, "What to do? William wants you back, Drusilla. I really don't know why."

"I love her." Spike said in a surly voice, struggling to rise to his feet.

"Stay there, William." Darla's voice was sharp, but it was the stake she pressed to Drusilla's chest that really got his attention. Slowly, the British vampire subsided.

"William loves you." The blonde mused softly.

"Spike loves me." Drusilla murmured, her face dreamy. Then her expression grew hard, "Spike killed Daddy!"

Darla moved her lips to Drusilla's ear, whispering softly.

"I never understood what Angelus thought he was doing when he turned you." Her voice was sour, "We were a happy family. Strong and powerful. You … you were a disgrace. An embarrassment to us all."

The blonde thrust suddenly with the stake, driving it deep into Drusilla's heart. A moment later, the woman Spike had loved was nothing more than dust, drifting slowly to the ground.

The British vampire stared up at his great-grandsire, fear evident in his eyes.

"What about me, luv?" he asked quietly, "Am I an embarrassment as well?"

Darla sighed,

"Just get up, William. And stop feeling so sorry for yourself."

**Chapter Twenty Four**

Faith sat on the Summers' staircase and took a sip of the beer she was holding. Normally she was more of a 'slug it back' kind of person, but it had taken over fifteen minutes of coaxing to get Giles and Joyce to let her have even one beer. At that rate of effort to reward, she planned to get the most she could out of each bottle.

"Hey." Buffy came down the staircase and perched on the step next to Faith.

"Hey, yourself." Faith replied quietly, offering the bottle to the blonde. Buffy wrinkled her nose.

"No thanks. The last time I drank beer was … not good."

"Major hangover?"

"That too, but it was mainly the evil magical curse which gave me the wiggins."

Faith smiled tightly and Buffy frowned,

"What's the matter?" she asked quietly, "you're the hero of the hour. Last night you saved me and helped save Willow. Mom and Giles just wanted to say 'thank you' for that. And believe me, from the way Mom keeps hugging me every ten minutes, they're going to keep on thanking you."

"We got lucky with Red." Faith took another sip from the beer, listening to the soft sounds of conversation in the next room. Giles and Joyce were playing gin rummy with Willow and Tara. "Most of the vamps bolted as soon as we went in. It was only the Jeneth who stayed to fight."

"Okay, what's up?" Buffy touched her arm, "I'm not going to go away until you spill."

"I'm leaving." Faith blurted the words out, then took a deep mouthful of beer to stop herself from saying any more.

"What?" Buffy looked stunned, "but -"

"But nothin', B." Faith shook her head, "I'm going to go back to Boston. The East Coast needs a slayer, too."

"The East Coast doesn't have a Hellmouth." The blonde reminded her, "We need you here. We _want_ you here."

"Not all of you." Faith realised she was out of beer. _Typical. Just when I could really do with another slug of it_. "I kissed Xander, B."

"Oh." Buffy's eyes widened, "Mom said he and Anya had a fight."

"Yeah." The brunette nodded, "I told Anya. I didn't want her to hear some other story. And I promised her I'd bail after we got you back. I … it didn't really anything, when I did it … I was just so lonely … but I don't want to come between Xander and Anya."

"I'll talk to her." Buffy said firmly.

Faith couldn't stop a flicker of surprise showing in her eyes. The blonde saw it.

"We need you here, Faith." She repeated, "Spike did one of his disappearing acts last night. Besides, this _is_ the Hellmouth. I guarantee the world will need saving again before we get to finals."

Despite herself, the brunette smiled, but she still shook her head.

"You don't need me, B. You've got a whole team to help you."

" And if you go to Boston, what will you have?" the blonde's voice was quiet. Faith shrugged uncomfortably.

"I'll have me. That's enough." Even to her, it sounded false.

"Faith, I _want_ you to stay." Buffy lightly gripped the brunette's hand in her own, "After all we've been through … you're like … a sister to me." She paused, "Except that I don't have to worry about you borrowing my clothes."

Faith snorted,

"That's for sure."

"Please stay." The blonde repeated. Faith sighed,

"I wish I could, B. But I made a promise. I won't go back on it, no matter how much I want to."

Buffy let go of her hand.

"So that's it, then?"

"Yeah." Faith nodded, her voice rough. She stood, wiped her hair back with her hand. "Look at it this way, B. The old Faith would have blown off the promise and stayed. But would you have wanted her to?"

The brunette walked away, leaving the blonde to sit with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Oh for goodness sake, Cor." Harmony scowled, "I'm not going to bite you."

"That's right." The brunette nodded, "You aren't. Because I've got this cross." She brandished it aggressively, making the vampire take a half step back.

"Look, I'd have to be pretty stupid to pick a fight with you. Because when Spike works out that I took this thing, he's going to be really pissed. So I'm gonna need your friends' protection. Now, do you want the damn Gem or not?"

"Give it to David." Cordelia jerked her head at the man standing diffidently to her left.

"You're the rich guy, huh?" Harmony smiled flirtatiously, offering him the bundled blanket she was holding. "You sure you can make this thing disappear again?"

"Um. Yes." He nodded nervously.

"Of course we can." Cordelia snapped, "that's why you came to us, isn't it?"

"Why did you?" David asked suddenly, "Um … come to us?"

Harmony sniffed,

"That bastard Spike was just using it to get back with Drusilla."

"Oh great." Cordelia rolled her eyes, "Spike's plan for world domination is foiled because you're a jealous little cow."

Harmony snarled at the brunette, the ridges of her vampire face forming instinctively. Cordelia thrust the cross forward immediately,

"Just give me an excuse, Harm." The brunette smiled sweetly.

"You don't have your ghost friend to protect you this time." The blonde growled back.

"You're beautiful."

"_What?_" Cordelia and Harmony exclaimed in unison, whirling to face David. The multimillionaire blushed in surprise, but repeated his words.

"You're beautiful." He reached out tentatively and stroked one of the hard ridges on Harmony's face. The gesture shocked her so much that she dropped back into her human face. He was sort of cute, in a geeky kind of way. _And he has all that money_.

"Oh, good grief." Cordelia pressed her free hand to her temple, "didn't your thing for demons get you in enough trouble already, David?"

She got the distinct feeling she may as well be talking to herself.

Spike leaned against the car, fumbling one-handed with his cigarettes. The arm Tor'Kol had broken was now bound in a sling. It would heal in a week or so. In the meantime, he was getting grouchy due to a lack of smokes.

"That's a filthy habit, you know." Darla stepped out of the gas station, daintily wiping her mouth. She was carrying a white plastic bag in one hand.

"How much did we get?" Spike ignored her comment.

"Only eighty from the till." She patted her coat pocket, "Maybe a thousand from the safe. And four cartons for you. Assorted flavours." She rustled the bag.

"Thanks, princess." He grinned. "How 'bout we knock over the next station, too? I could do with a little something to wet my whistle."

"You could have had some of this one."

"Nah." He shook his head, "I don't like left-overs."

Darla laughed,

"Did you fill up?"

"Yeah. And I waited until I'd finished to light the smoke, too. I'm not a complete fool."

"Except about Drusilla." Darla smiled sweetly.

His eyes narrowed.

"Well, you put a stop to that didn't you, pet?"

"Oh, poor William." Darla teased, plucking the cigarette out of his mouth to kiss him, "One of you was going to die, either way. Would you have preferred it to be you?"

"Guess not." He breathed, and kissed her again, savouring the taste of fresh blood in her mouth.

After the better part of a minute they parted lips.

"Time to go." She whispered.

"Yeah." Spike took back his cigarette and slid into the passenger seat. He watched Darla walk around to the driver's side, admiring the smooth movement of her body. He wondered if he would kill her once he was back up to full strength. _She did kill Dru, after all_.

On the other hand, she was great in the sack. And a lot less emotional than Drusilla had been. And she had saved him from being killed. He'd give it a couple of weeks to make up his mind.

"What're you thinking about?" she asked, climbing into the car.

"Just that this is another one I owe those bitch slayers." He pointed back over his shoulder. By now, Sunnydale was a good fifty miles behind them.

"You thinking about going back, one day?"

"Go back to Sunnydale?" he laughed, "Every time I'm there I get my ass kicked by the slayers and go within an inch of being dusted." He paused and laughed again, "You _bet_ I'm gonna go back. But for now, let's go shake up Vegas. I feel like making a killing at the casinos."

Faith packed her belongings for the second time in a week. The single bag looked small and alone on the bed, but she tried to think of that as a positive. _At least I travel light_.

"Faith?" it was the last voice she had expected to hear.

"Anya." The brunette slayer turned to look at the ex-demoness, who stood at the open door of her dorm room.

"Can I come in?"

"So long as you're not a vampire, yeah."

Anya came into the room almost gingerly, glancing around as she did so.

"Buffy's a slob, huh?"

"She's not too bad." Faith shrugged. It was hard not to be messy when you owned as much stuff as Buffy seemed to. "What do you want, Anya?"

"I came to see if you'd left yet."

"I was just going." Faith said shortly, shouldering her bag. _What else did I expect from her? A tearful farewell?_

"Wait!" Anya put out her hand. The slayer stopped with a scowl. She had picked this time to leave because Buffy was in a class. If the ex-demoness delayed her too long, she would have to endure another tearful scene with the other slayer.

"What is it?" she didn't bother to keep the edge of hostility from her voice.

"I didn't mean it like that." Anya waved her hands in a gesture of confusion, "I just … say stuff … the first thing that comes into my head, y'know?"

"So what _did_ you mean?" Faith sighed, dropping the bag; and herself; back onto the bed.

"I meant that I'd come to make sure you hadn't gone yet." Anya shifted uncomfortably, "I just wanted to tell you that it's okay for you to stay. I know you won't try to take Xander from me. It's not really him you want, is it?"

Faith blinked. She had to give Anya credit: the girl was direct.

"So you and Xander worked things out?" the brunette chose the less confronting topic.

"We spoke to Buffy's mom a couple of nights ago." Anya shrugged, "And she was really helpful. Besides, I really like sex with him."

Faith coughed in surprise. Anya did tend to boil things down to the bare bones.

"So you're cool with me staying in town?"

"Yes." Anya nodded, "After all, you're not going to try and steal my man when you're with Buffy, are you?"

The brunette slayer felt a wave of surprise. _Is it that obvious?_

"Anya -" she paused, unsure what to say, "Buffy … she doesn't know that I -"

"Yes, she does." The other slayer's soft interruption caused Faith to start with surprise. The blonde was leaning against the room's door, her books under one arm.

Anya slipped out of the room silently, leaving the two alone. It was a long time before either of them moved or spoke again.

**Epilogue**

"So how are things in LA?" Faith asked as Buffy hung up the phone. The brunette was sitting cross-legged on her bed, a pile of books in front of her.

"Good. Angel says hi -"

"How did he take the news?" the brunette tried to keep the tension out of her voice.

Buffy laughed wryly,

"He said 'It took you both long enough'."

"Oh." Faith blushed slightly, "Anything else goin' on out there?"

"Harmony's still around. She got her hooks into some guy called David."

Faith frowned,

"A vamp and a human. That's just freaky." Faith realised what she had said and blushed, "I mean … where the vampire doesn't have a soul. You and Angel was totally different." It was time to clamp down on the babbling before she started to sound like Willow. "He was really that cool with it? I thought, with the chance of him becoming human again, you two might have …"

The blonde brushed her hair back,

"He was fine. More than fine. I think he is really settled in LA, now. And I think he knows how happy I am."

Faith felt a bashful smile spread across her lips, despite her efforts to quash it.

"You're happy, then?" by an effort of will, she kept her voice neutral.

Buffy grinned playfully,

"You know I am." She murmured, moving behind the brunette and wrapping her arms around her. The blonde's lips brushed Faith's ear as she spoke.

The dark slayer settled back against her lover, gently stroking Buffy's arms as she did so.

"Me too."


End file.
